


Overboard

by shiny_starlight



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-06 17:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiny_starlight/pseuds/shiny_starlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When single father Merlin Emerson discovers that the man who denied him thousands of dollars that was his due has gotten amnesia, he seizes his chance for revenge by pretending to be his husband. The joke is on him though when he realises that Arthur Pennington is possibly even more wonderful that he ever could have imagined...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overboard

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _SO_ not mine. No profit is being made from this piece of work, not now or in the future. Don't sue. All you'll get is my copious amount of debt.
> 
> Written for the [reel_merlin challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/reel_merlin/).
> 
> Based on the movie [_Overboard_](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093693/)

It was hot.

Really, really, _really_ hot.

Merlin was seized with a sudden bout of homesickness for the damp, soggy English weather as he moved yet more stacks of lumber across the yard.

Dear God, he was hallucinating. The heat was scrambling his brain and actually making him miss _English weather_.

Dumping the last of the wood, he shook himself as he headed into the offices of _Gaius Tradesmen Inc._ to grab some water before he died a slow, horrible death due to heat exposure. On the way to the refrigerator, he passed Lance and promptly smacked him on the back of the head.

"Hey!" his friend yelped, cradling the back of his skull. "What was that for?"

"You promised me those designs a week ago, duLac," he reminded him, tossing him a bottle of water. "We have customers waiting you know."

"Perfection takes time," Lance grinned. "But keep it down, yeah? We don't need people to know we're branching out, just yet. You don't want to get the other guys getting all the good jobs. Besides, school's starting soon. You're going to need all the money you can get."

Merlin sighed and sat down with a thump.

"God, don't remind me," he groaned. "The expense is killing me. And there are only so many hours in the day I can work."

"Soon, man. We'll get sorted soon."

"I hope so."

"Merlin!" Gaius's cultured voice boomed across to where he sat. "I've got a job for you."

Merlin stood eagerly and accepted the slip of paper the older man handed to him.

"_The Gloriana_?" he asked sceptically.

"Private yacht. Apparently, it's owned by the rich, feckless son of a rich, ruthless business tycoon. I got a call from his butler, of all things. They need a carpenter as soon as possible. Apparently it's an emergency. And it could end up being a few days work, and I know things are tight for you right now."

"Thanks Gaius," Merlin smiled sincerely. Since the move to Ealdor, Oregon four months previously, Gaius has been a continual godsend. Lance had hooked him up with the job, but Gaius had been almost like a father figure for him.

"Think nothing of it, my boy. Now, just head down to the marina, find the boat and ask for Geoffrey. He'll let you know what it's all about. Shouldn't be too big of a deal."

~*~

Merlin _really_ wished Gaius hadn't said those immortal last few words as he gazed up at the huge vessel in front of him. Large in every sense of the word, it sparkled in the sun and put every other boat in Ealdor Marina to shame. For them to have an emergency... it was probably going to be a huge job.

Blinking against the shining expanse of hull, he finally found the steps up to the deck. When he struggled up the steep steps with his toolbox, he was met by a Burly Security Guard who looked at Merlin like he wanted nothing more than to crush his skull between his thumb and forefinger. Merlin gulped and gave him his name.

Burly Security Guard, as Merlin mentally christened him, nodded and spoke quietly into his walkie talkie, all the while keeping one hand on the taser on his belt and both beady eyes on him. Merlin shifted uncomfortably and was just starting contemplate throwing himself overboard and telling Gaius he couldn't find the _Gloriana_, when Burly Security Guard nodded and let him pass. He stepped quickly past, still not entirely sure that BSG (as he was _re_-christened in Merlin's mind for the sake of speed) wouldn't catch him by the neck and throw him onto the wooden dock below when he wasn't looking.

He didn't have much experience with boats. Yachts. Whatever... but even Merlin could see just how impressive this one was. It outshone all the other boats in the marina, dripping wealth and class. He couldn't even begin to guess how many it took to staff it, to keep its wooden deck scrubbed and gleaming and the many windows shiny and streak free. The whole yacht was polished to a high shine and sparkled in the mid morning sun.

He shuffled forward, lugging his heavy toolbox in one hand and headed towards the stairs to the upper deck. He had just started his ascent when a noise made him look up.

And up.

And up.

Standing at the top of the stairs was the single, most beautifully handsome, man Merlin had ever seen. His taught and lightly tanned skin was dusted with a light coating of hair. His blond hair flopped down into his eyes which were shielded behind an expensive looking pair of aviator sunglasses. Merlin's mouth went dry when he took in the tiny pair of black swim trunks that left little, if anything, to the imagination as they clung to well muscled thighs. The overall effect was dazzling, especially when framed by the mid-morning sun. Merlin thought he could stand there for hours, just looking.

Then, the prat had to go and ruin the illusion by opening his big mouth.

"Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing on my yacht?" he demanded, looking Merlin up and down with a look of pure and utter distain. He held a Blackberry in one hand and looked completely ready to hurl it at his head if his answer wasn't satisfactory. Merlin couldn't help but bristle at the tone from the other man. Ok, so his clothes were a little sweaty and there was a tear in the hem of his old purple t-shirt, but he'd been hauling lumber all morning, damnit! In the hot mid-day sun, no less. He'd like to see this asshole in front of him do half that without calling for a servant to finish the job. He was so incredibly tempted to just turn and walk away and leave this ass to his emergency but the thought of school and books and supplies stopped him. A job this size at emergency rate would make things a hell of a lot easier.

"I'm Merlin Emerson. The carpenter. Someone named Geoffrey called my boss about an emergency..." He let the sentence hang.

Blond Prat (as Merlin cheerfully christened him) raised an eyebrow at Merlin's accent. Guess he wasn't expecting an Englishman to be working in small town Oregon. He looked Merlin over again, smirking at the state of his clothes and the mess that was his hair and Merlin had to clench his fists tightly to stop from decking him.

"Are you sure you're old enough to handle those tools all by yourself? Don't you need your dad's supervision?" he smirked.

Merlin flushed angrily.

"I'm thirty two years old, not that it's any of your business," he ground out. "And I'm a Master Carpenter. Now, are you going to point me in the direction of the emergency or will I go talk to someone who doesn't have all day to spend mocking a man making an honest living for himself? I'm aware that it must be a strange concept for you..."

Blond Prat opened his mouth to retort, and angrily from the looks of the not so attractive shade of red his face had just gone, but he was interrupted a stunning brunette in a barely there bikini walking into view at the top of the stairs.

"Arthur, darling is that my carpenter?"

Her voice was as cultured and smooth and as fake as her highly polished nails and the stupidly flimsy sandals on her feet. Merlin distrusted her on sight.

"So he claims," Blond Prat (Arthur, his memory helpfully supplied, but Merlin thought Blond Prat suited him better) replied, walking down the steps away from her and towards Merlin. "Show him your _emergency_, Sophia." Was it Merlin's imagination or was his tone slightly mocking, in a cultured and well-bred way?

Arthur stopped next to Merlin and grabbed his arm. His senses were assailed with the smell of coconut sun bock, a light and subtle aftershave and a hint of musk that could only be Arthur's natural scent. His head swam and he had trouble focusing on the blue eyes in front of him. '_Why did they have to be such a gorgeous shade of blue?_' his mind wailed before it got distracted by the scattering of freckles across his nose. Freckles! He was brought abruptly to his senses by a rough shake to his arm.

"Keep your hands and eyes off my wife," he snapped before storming off.

"Come with me," Sophie crooked her finger what Merlin assumed was supposed to be a flirtatious and seductive manner before grabbing up a tiny sarong that probably cost more than his truck and disappearing from view. Merlin resisted the urge to snort and tell her she was wasting her time as he had never found a woman attractive in his life and he _really_ didn't intend to start now, especially with the wife of the man who would be paying him a stupid amount of money in the near future. He clambered noisily and gracelessly up the steps and followed her into the cool interior of the yacht. He followed her down several sets of stairs and through a twist of corridors before finally reaching a tastefully decorated and opulent, but completely impersonal, bedroom. No clothing was scattered on the chairs, no books lay face down on the night tables, no makeup bottles were left lying around. It was like walking into a completely anonymous hotel room. Sophia had disappeared into a room to his left that turned out to be a large walk in closet.

"This," she struck a pose and Merlin swallowed his smile, "is my wardrobe. As you can see, it is entirely unsuitable and unacceptable." She started pulling out shoe boxes and pulling clothing from hangers as she continued rambling about fabrics being crushed and destroyed and needing to _breathe_.

"Wait a minute," Merlin interrupter her, "I was told this was some sort of emergency."

She glared at him, shaking a flimsy, shimmery garment in his face.

"This is _Chanel_," she hissed. "Of course it's an emergency!"

Merlin let her ramble on for a few more minutes, pointing out inadequacies in the already huge wardrobe, mostly talking about shoes. Alright already. He got it. She had a lot of very expensive shoes. She didn't need to show _all_ of them to him. As she talked, Merlin looked around the room that was, if he was honest with himself, almost as big as the room he grew up in back home in Wiltshire.

"Well, can you do it?" Sophia interrupted his reverie.

"Can I what?"

"Fix this!" she stamped her foot in annoyance.

"You want me to build you a better wardrobe?"

"Yes, finally we're getting somewhere," she sighed dramatically.

Merlin took one more brief look around. "I'll need to take some measurements before I go. I'll draw up the plans tonight, get started on it tomorrow. You'll need to clear it out before I get start tomorrow."

"Fine, whatever. I'll get someone to do it. I'm going now. I'll be sending Geoffrey to make sure you don't steal anything before you leave."

~*~

Geoffrey, as it turned out, was an Englishman like Merlin himself. He made a near silent entrance, scaring the crap out of Merlin and causing him to yelp in surprise and pain as his tape measure snapped back on his finger. His face was serious, but Merlin saw the twinkle of amusement and exasperation in his eyes when he heard Sophia out on deck haranguing her husband. Merlin liked to think that the other man shared his opinion that the couple deserved each other.

As he drove home to work on the plans, his mind drifted back to Blond Prat. He almost felt sorry for him, being married to a fake vicious bitch like Sophia, but he'd seen the way he looked down his nose at Merlin, who had done nothing but try to make an honest living. No, he definitely did _not_ feel sorry for that asshole. In fact, he wished a dozen daughters on him, every one the image and likeness of their mother.

His truck rattled as it he indicated and pulled into the front yard of the house. The yard was fenced in by trees, which hid the state of it from most passers-by. The two rusted cars had been there already when he had bought the house, and Merlin hadn't had the time or money to get them removed yet. And yes, the house itself had seen better days. But it was waterproof, mostly, and was big enough. Besides the big back garden and porch running around almost the entirety of the house, made up for a lot. He also had an outbuilding for his workshop and a 'Den' for his kids to play in. All in all, it wasn't a bad place.

Merlin frowned when he realised he couldn't park in his usual space as a dusty silver car already occupied it. As soon as he stopped the car and got out, a shriek filled the air, closely followed by two dogs barking loudly. His front door opened and a dark haired woman flew out, covered practically head to toe in toilet paper, closely followed by two large barking dogs.

Merlin whistled sharply.

"Draco! Griffin! Heel!"

The dogs backed off, planting their butts on the porch, tongues lolling out of their heads. Merlin _swore_ they were laughing in their own doggy way. The woman they were chasing stormed towards Merlin, ripping off the toilet paper as she went.

"Look, I'm sorry about the dogs. I swear they won't hurt you. They're big idiots really. They just get excited..." Merlin began.

"The dogs did not do this," the woman snapped. She could be pretty, gap in her front teeth and all, if her face wasn't purple with rage. She threw the toilet paper at his feet. "Your children did this."

Merlin screwed his eyes shut. This was the last thing he needed.

"Look, I'm sorry Miss..."

"Grayson. Helen Grayson. I'm the principal of the Ealdor School." She stalked past him and Merlin swore softly and followed her. "I came over to welcome your family, and meet the girls in a friendly, stress free environment before they started school next week. And what do I get? Covered in toilet paper!"

"Look, they didn't mean..."

"They threatened to set it on fire!"

Merlin groaned and smacked his palm to his forehead.

"Morgana's suggestion, right?" he asked and sighed when the woman nodded. "And Gwen no doubt went along with it. I'm sorry. She's going through an arson phase at the moment. But I'm way ahead of her. I have _seven_ fire extinguishers stashed around the property. She can't get away with anything."

"That is not the point!" Helen finally untangled herself from the mass of toilet paper as she got to her car. "Look, where is Mrs. Emerson when all this is going on?"

Merlin's heart beat painfully in his chest, an echo of the raw grief he had lived with for years. God, he wished Will were here right now.

"There was never a Mrs. Emerson. There was a Mr. Hayden though. My husband was killed when a drunk driver crashed into his car three years ago."

He'd been away visiting his uncle who lived in Essex. He had died alone. Away from home, away from his family who needed him and loved him. Away from Merlin.

He still wasn't used to it.

Helen Grayson's features softened for a moment and she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry to hear about your husband. But you have to understand, this is no way to raise children."

"Don't you dare tell me how to raise my kids," Merlin snapped. He knew he was being too defensive but he couldn't help it. He and Will had fought long and hard to adopt those girls, and he fought long and hard to keep them after Will's death. He may not be the most available parent in the world, but he loved those kids fiercely, and would gladly lay down his life for Morgana, Gwen _or_Hunith without hesitation. He worked hard to provide for them and it was not easy.

"I'm not..."

"Do you think it's easy raising three girls on your own? While trying to work and provide for them? After moving to a brand new freaking country?"

"Be that as it may," she answered coolly, "you need to get your act together. And fast. Or I will be informing the proper authorities."

With that, she got into her car, slamming the door behind her.

"Look, I'm new in town. I'm pretty broke but once I get settled, I'll hire a housekeeper. Satisfied?" Merlin called to her, but she ignored him and drove away.

God, he didn't need this today.

Turning to the house, he saw three figures quickly run from the windows. Sighing, he pulled his toolbox from the back of his truck, patted his big dumb dogs who were still grinning at him as he passed and went into the house.

It was like a war zone.

"Alright girls, we need to talk."

~*~

Merlin would never be happier to see the back of someone as much as he would Sophia Pennington. He learned a lot about her over the four days it took for him to build her a 'masterpiece', as she demanded of him. She was spoiled, and whiny, rude and insensitive. She also flirted with every male that came across her path, the one exception being her husband. Him, she made demands to, but mostly ignored.

He also found out that it drove her crazy that all her flirtations, demands for attention and revealing clothing had absolutely _no_ effect on Merlin.

He had to admit, he enjoyed seeing her reaction every time he shot her down.

What _did_ have a big effect on Merlin was the sight of her shirtless Blond Prat of a husband day after day, sunning himself on the deck. For the first time since he lost Will, Merlin had a crush. But why did it have to be him? Blond Prat got even better looking the more you saw of him and the only think keeping Merlin from making a fool of himself and fawning over him like an adoring puppy was the rudeness and obnoxiousness he displayed on a near constant basis. The coffee wasn't hot enough. It wasn't strong enough. The air conditioning wasn't up high enough, and then it was up too far. There was no cell phone reception in this 'Godforsaken backwater'. And for some reason, he seemed to delight in irritating Merlin as much as possible, whether it be talking loudly and obviously in his vicinity about the 'hell hole' they were currently in, or the 'joys of not having to become a common labourer to make ends meet.' He also made regular visits to the room to needle him in person, making Merlin wish for magic so he could zip the other man's mouth shut.

Literally.

Merlin felt huge swathes of pity for the permanent staff members who had to deal with these people on a daily basis. They truly were a match spawned in the deepest, darkest circles of hell.

He just needed to finish this job, get paid and get the hell out of here and back to his life.

~*~

Arthur sat in the shade of the upper deck, needing a break from the sun. It was as hot as Hades already and it wasn't even noon. He really wasn't built for this kind of heat; his Anglo blood from his mother's side ensured that. Arthur wondered if Merlin's creamy skinned burned as easily before immediately pushing that thought aside. He needed to stop thinking about that man. He was a carpenter, for Christ's sake.

Ok, so he was skilled, if what Arthur had seen in his daily jaunts to irritate the man was any indication, and he did have large, strong, capable hands... His ponderings on just what the carpenter could do with those hands were interrupted by the click of high heels on the wooden deck and Arthur suppressed a groan. Sophia slinked her way into view, once again barely concealed in a practically non-existent bikini, and reclined gracefully on the lounge chair opposite him, fully in the sun.

_'Won't be able to wear those much longer,'_ he thought to himself. Did she really think him such an idiot that he didn't notice she was ill every morning? Or that coffee, the substance she practically lived on along with cigarettes, now suddenly made her nauseous at the merest trace? And that she had stopped her daily liquid lunches of vodka martinis?

Arthur knew people thought he was an idiot, and admittedly, he cultivated that image somewhat. He'd been underestimated his entire life; his few attempts at a show of intellect or character slapped down or laughed at by his friends and 'peers', or his father. He'd been underestimated, and now, he kind of liked it that way. People were a lot more forthcoming when they thought he didn't know which way the sun set. That way, no one suspected that his canny investments had almost tripled the money left to him by his mother and paternal grandfather. Or that he had a passion for history. No one, not even Sophia knew of the room in the house where he liked to go and simply read, or draw. He was quite the artist, if he did say so himself.

So yes, Sophia thought him an idiot. She probably thought the idea had never occurred to him that she was pregnant, especially since they had not slept together for almost six months, ever since their biggest, in a long line of arguments, that had shaped and defined their marriage. Arthur had left home for two weeks to stop himself from physically shaking her, he was so angry. Arthur was a lot of things, but a wife beater was not one of them.

But yes, his 'darling' wife was pregnant with another man's child. Sadly, he was not at all surprised. What the hell had he been thinking in marrying her? Oh yeah, he hadn't been thinking, at least with his upstairs brain. Plus, the fact that their whirlwind romance and marriage had irritated his father no end had made her incredibly appealing. It didn't take long for reality to set in. Thank God his father has insisted on an iron-clad pre-nup. It would make the divorce papers he had his lawyers drawing up, and the subsequent separation, a hell of a lot easier.

They sat there, regarding each other coolly from beneath their expensive sunglasses, the faint bangs and whines of machinery currently constructing Sophia's 'dream' closet providing a suitable accompaniment for their staring match. She stared at him for several long moments more before a flash if irritation crossed her face.

"Isn't he done yet?" she whined, pouting prettily.

Seriously, what the hell had he been thinking when he had married her?

"He said he would be finished by tomorrow," he said absently, picking up the discarded novel sitting beside him.

"Do you have someone watching him?" she asked.

"Why would I possibly have someone watching him?"

"Because I don't want some sweaty, inbred bumpkin pawing his way through my things," she explained as if she were speaking to a small child. "Surely you must see the way he looks at me. The temptation to put his greasy hands all over my clothes must be overwhelming."

Was it Arthur's imagination or did he hear a bark of laughter coming from the open window to their bedroom?

To be honest, he hadn't noticed Merlin looking at his wife. He had noticed the other man looking at _him_ though. The thought of Merlin sneaking looks at him from the corner of his eyes had made heat coil low in his stomach and made him flush from head to toe. The end result had been him feeling it was necessary to parade around in progressively smaller swimming shorts.

Arthur didn't know what it was. He couldn't put his finger on it, but for some reason, he enjoyed watching Merlin squirm.

"I'm sure he can restrain himself," he replied dryly when it became apparent she was waiting on some sort of reply. "The rest of us do."

With that, he hauled himself up and left, leaving Sophia spluttering unattractively behind him. He headed indoors, going downstairs to check on the project and to needle Merlin some more. The man was just such an easy mark. It was so easy to make him blush and stammer; even something as simple as changing into new swim trunks within hearing range of the carpenter caused him to flare up. He let the other man's imagination do the rest. _Today felt like a Speedo day_, Arthur thought as he descended the stairs. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Months, if he was honest with himself.

He approached the room quietly and heard Merlin speaking to someone inside. Curious, he opened the door a crack and peeked inside. Merlin was stretched out the floor, surrounded by tools and the remains of his lunch. He was lying back, laughing and smiling as he spoke to someone on the phone and for some reason, the look of pure adoration on the other man's face made Arthur's stomach clench.

 

_"Morgana, Morgana relax. I won't forget, I promise. I'll be home in a couple of hours and I'll bring the magazines. I'll even bring pizza.... No, that isn't a reflection on your cooking skills... yes, I know I can barely do better... I meant it s a treat... Okay, okay, I'll make it Chinese instead, happy?.. Okay, love you too honey. See you soon."_

 

Before he had even hung up, Arthur opened the door sharply, causing the other man to jump in fright. Merlin looked at him strangely before getting to his feet, slowly.

"I don't pay you to talk on the phone with your girlfriend all day," he snapped before he could stop himself. The thought of Merlin having someone else at home didn't sit easy with him at all. He was aware what an enormous hypocrite he was being and that awareness made him act like even more of a bastard than usual. He brushed past the other man and stomped over to the dresser.

"It was my daughter, actually," Merlin said archly, surprising Arthur. The carpenter did look very young to have a daughter. "And besides," he continued, bending to pick up his garbage from the floor, "And I was on a break. I am still allowed them, right? This didn't turn into Nazi Germany when I was down here or anything, did it?"

"Whatever," Arthur replied, angry at himself for his relief at the lack of mention of a girlfriend or wife. "Just get it done and fast." He jerked down the swimming shorts he was wearing, and smirked at the satisfying squeak he heard from Merlin as he changed into an even tinier pair of shorts.

"Nice tattoo," came the strangled reply from Merlin. Arthur glanced down and brushed his fingers over the gold and red dragon situated low, low down on his pelvis. He looked out from under his bangs and saw Merlin follow the route of his fingers and swallow convulsively. Arthur grinned triumphantly and Merlin scowled when he saw this. He turned away and picked up his tools.

"Come on Merlin, don't be like that." He stepped forward towards the other man, and Merlin straightened his spine.

"You're an asshole," he was told, and he frowned at the angry tone in Merlin's voice. It was only a bit of fun.

"Whatever Merlin," he snapped. "Do something useful. Finish the job you're being paid for and get the hell out."

He stormed out, cursing fluently all the way.

~*~

"Just finish the job, get the money and get the hell out of dodge."

Merlin repeated this mantra to himself under his breath as he packed up his tools for the final time. He couldn't wait to get out of this oppressive atmosphere of the yacht. Sophia was becoming unbearable and his attraction to Arthur was growing more and more day by day, despite his pratishness. And, to make matters worse, he was fairly certain he had caught the blond prat sneaking looks at him on occasion. The whole situation was messing with his head and he needed to be gone.

Preferably now.

He was continuing his chant under his breath when Sophia breezed in the door. She stopped and struck a pose in the doorway of the closet.

"All finished, are we?" she asked.

"Yep," Merlin said, closing his toolbox with a 'snap'. "All done."

Sophia looked with interest into the closet, but instead of being pleased as Merlin expected, she froze.

"What is _that_?" she asked. Merlin could almost _see_ her turn her nose up at it. He bristled defensively. This was some of his best work.

"It's a closet with a mechanical shoe rack built in," he explained, his voice level. He showed her how to work the lever to detract some of the shelves and bring forward the ones hidden behind. Sophia was staring at him in silence, which unnerved Merlin slightly.

"I see that," she said once he had finished. "But what is it made of?"

"It's called wood," Merlin sighed, thumping his head back against the wall. "It's oak."

"Oak? But all closets are made of cedar. It prevents moths."

"There's not a really big moth problem on the Pacific West Coast," Merlin explained to her patiently in the tone he used when talking to his youngest daughter.

"I want it done in cedar," she snapped, walking past him to grab a long shirt from one of the racks.

"Fine," Merlin snapped back, already dreading the amount of time it would take to re-build it. "But I'm telling you know, it will more than double my estimate."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that I've already done it in oak," he gestured at the completed closet.

"I'm not paying for your mistake," she snapped, stalking past him to the main bedroom. "You will remake the closet and not charge me extra, as _you_ made the mistake.

"You may have _wanted_ cedar, but you didn't _ask_ for cedar," Merlin clarified, his volume rising with his temper.

"I didn't think I'd have to, as the only a moron would make a closet out of oak."

"Maybe I was too distracted by putting my dirty, sweaty man hands all over your clothes," Merlin snapped, beyond angry.

Sophia gasped, and her eyes flicked from Merlin to the window which had been open almost constantly while Merlin had been working to circulate the air.

"You were listening," she accused.

"It was pretty damn hard not to," Merlin told her grimly.

"I don't believe it," she fumed. "You're fired!" With that, she stalked past him once more and up onto the deck.

"You are unbelievable!" Merlin yelled, grabbing up his toolbox and following her onto the deck. "That's fine with me," he shouted after her. He squinted in the sudden bright sunlight as he came up from downstairs. He stormed after her to where she was walking towards her husband. Blond Prat was sitting on a lounge chair, doing something on his blackberry, but he stood on their approach.

"Just pay me the money you owe me and I'll be gone."

"I will not. The job was not done to my satisfaction," she retorted.

"I have news for you sweetheart: **No** job will _ever_ be done to your satisfaction."

"Wait, what's going on here?" Blond Prat intervened.

"_He_ made a mistake and is trying to charge me for it." Sophia actually pointed and stamped her foot.

"Your _wife_ didn't specify what she wanted, and now is trying to get out of paying!"

He looked between the two of them, and eyebrow raised.

"You just can't admit you did it wrong."

"Because I didn't. There is nothing wrong with that closet. You know what your problem is? You're bored. So goddamned bored that you need to invent things to bitch about. _Anything_ to take up your nail polishing, sun tanning day!"

Merlin was livid. He really needed this money; it had been the driving force behind his decision to do this. His kids were starting school soon and he still needed to get them set up with books and equipment. He was _not_ leaving without his money.

"Don't you dare speak to my wife like that!" Blond Prat crowded into Merlin's personal space, but Merlin stood his ground."

"Oh god, don't you start too," Merlin groaned. "Look, you don't want me here. I don't want to be here. Just pay me the $12,000 you owe me and I'll be gone."

"$12,000?" There was that damn eyebrow again.

"An expert carpenter working on emergency rate?" Merlin retorted. "You bet your arse it's $12,000. Be glad I don't charge more. Look, I'm not leaving until I get my money." He walked over to the railing of the yacht and leaned against it, getting ready for the long haul.

"Captain Karl?" Blond Prat shouted up to the control room. "Start the engine."

"Oh hell no!"Merlin shouted. "You are not just going to skip out on paying me. You're as bad has her. God, you really are a match made in hell. I hope whenever you have kids, that they are just like her!"

Merlin could see instantly that it was the wrong thing to say, that he had struck a nerve. Blond Prat's face darkened and he strode over to where Merlin was standing, placed his hands on his chest and shoved hard. Merlin's back hit the railing hard, and he went flying over, landing in the cold water with a splash. His arms flailed wildly as he went under and they somehow propelled him to the surface. He broke into the warm air, coughing and spluttering and gasping for breath. He looked up just in time to see Sophia approach with his tool kit as they pulled out of the marina.

"Not the toolkit!" he shouted, but she ignored him, grinning maliciously as his kit hit the water with a splash. Shit! His livelihood was depending on that. He'd have to borrow some from Gaius or Lance.  
"I'll get you back for this!!" he yelled as they pulled away completely.

Merlin started swimming towards the dock, arms shaking with rage.

"FUCK!"

~*~

Arthur sat in bed later that night, mindlessly flicking through the TV channels, still fuming over the events of the day. Ok, so me _may_ have overreacted somewhat, what with pushing Merlin overboard, but he'd struck a nerve with his comments about children, and he'd snapped. He was a rather compulsive person, always had been. He was uncomfortably aware that he had stiffed the carpenter out of rather a lot of money, and it was money he had earned. Arthur had inspected the closet thoroughly after everything had happened, and the workmanship was indeed exquisite. Apparently, he'd been telling the truth when he'd said he'd was a master craftsman. He'd get Geoffrey to wire the money to the company in the morning, along with a large tip. Arthur Pennington was a lot of things, but a thief was not one of them.

Sophia finally finished primping, or whatever the hell she was doing in the bathroom and sauntered out into the bedroom. She slid into bed beside him and walked her fingers across his chest. Arthur ignored her. Instead, he concentrated on flicking through the TV channels at speed, not really noticing what he was on.

"Arthur..." Sophia began.

"No." Arthur cut her off pre-emptively.

"But you don't even know what I was going to say," she pouted.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it." Arthur turned to her angrily and Sophia shuffled over to her side of the bed.

"Are you angry Arthur?" she asked, eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" he laughed incredulously. "You do remember what happened today, right?"

"At dinner?"

Arthur couldn't believe that she was actually confused about this.

"No!" He was shouting now. "I'm talking about what happened today with Merlin... The carpenter I threw overboard," he clarified, seeing her blank look at the name.

"That?" Sophia sounded surprised. "You're still upset about that?"

"My God, what is it like in your head?" Arthur marvelled. "How can one person actually be so self absorbed?"

"I was upset too Arthur," she whined.

"You're upset because he told you the truth," Arthur said, getting out of the bed and grab his robe and his phone. "You are one of _the_ most spoiled, vain and selfish people I have ever met. There was nothing wrong with his work. It was amazing. He was right: you were just so bored with your life that you needed to invent something to complain about. I can't take it any more Sophia."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving a shocked Sophia in his wake. He took out his iPhone and tried to connect to his lawyer. He didn't care that it was almost one am. He paid Gawain a mid-sized fortune to be on call 24/7, but he couldn't get a damn signal.

Pissed off, he stomped up onto the deck to try and find a signal somewhere near this backwards hicktown. He could have waited until morning, but he wanted to get the proceedings of the divorce rolling. He couldn't take it any more. He needed her gone.

He stalked across the deck from bow to stern, phone held out in front of him. It was a very cold, very windy night and Arthur shivered in his thin robe. He was about to give up and go back inside when he finally spied one bar of signal when he was near the back of the boat. He stood against the railing and was about to dial when a strong gust of wind hit him and he clung onto the railing, almost falling backwards off the yacht. He would never know what exactly happened next, whether it was the wind or if the captain was asleep at the wheel, but when another strong gust of wind hit him at the exact moment the yacht lurched to the side, Arthur lost his footing and his grip at the same time and went sailing backwards over the railing, landing with a splash in the freezing water.

"Shit my phone!" he exclaimed as he lost his grip on the piece of tech and it quickly sunk beneath his grasp. The cold quickly set in and within seconds, he was shivering.

"HELP!! STOP!!" he yelled as loudly as he could, but no one was on deck to hear him.

He was alone.

~*~

Sophia stretched, wincing against the bright morning light. She hadn't slept that well in ages. She needed it, especially with her being so tired all the time. Groaning at the chatter of voices on the television in the background, she pulled the pillow back over her head.

"Turn it off Arthur," she demanded.

There was no answer, neither in confirmation or in a grumble of complaint of how he was not her servant. She peeked her head out from under the pillow, expecting to see Arthur sulking by his closet or at the desk, but he wasn't there. She ran her hands over his side of the bed: the sheets were cold.

The big baby had slept in another room. God, what a sulky child.

She sat up and rested her arms on her raised knees. She didn't know how much longer she could stay with him. The chatter of local voices once again interrupted her thoughts and she leaned across the bed to grab the remote control. She was just about to change the channel when the picture on the screen made her freeze. Why was Arthur on the TV? She turned it up instead.

 

_"... was found early this morning by a garbage scow, floating in the sea. The man, pictured here and here, appears to have no memory of who he is or how he got there."_

 

They continued to show pictures of Arthur; dirty, hair mussed, dressed in hospital scrubs and a fierce scowl on his face. After a further moment, the pictures were replaced by a smiling, impersonal local newswoman.

 

_"Police are asking if anyone has any information about his man, or indeed knows him, to contact the Sherriff's department, or Contact Dr. Newman at Ealdor General directly."_

 

~*~

Sophia resisted the urge to hug her coat tighter around her body to avoid it brushing the sides of the hospital walls. It was a small, and, in her opinion, grubby place. It was noisy and she was happy to have hr security guard, Tristan, there to protect her. Especially when they entered the 'Psychiatric Ward' of the hospital. It was closed off from the rest of the hospital by a locked door, and Sophia wanted to flee as soon as she heard it lock behind her.

She followed the Sherriff; a good looking black man named Pellinore, into a side room and waited as he closed the door behind them. Through the two way mirror, she could see Arthur sitting in bed in a semi-private room, holding an icepack to his head. He had a nurse and a doctor dancing attendance to him, and was currently reading them the riot act.

"Are you telling me that I have no medical recourse?" he was asking the doctor.

The doctor winced. From the looks of things, they'd been at this for a while.

"Not as far as we know," he sighed.

"Well what do you know?"Arthur demanded, throwing the icepack at the doctor in frustration. "Extend your brain just a tiny bit, if that is at all possible."

"You seem to be suffering from a temporary amnesia, brought on by either the shock of hitting the cold water, or the bump on the garbage scow."

"How temporary is it?" Arthur asked tiredly, rubbing the v between his eyebrows in a gesture so familiar Sophia's breath silently caught in her throat.

"Well, we don't know. You seem to be in excellent physical shape."

"Other than the fact that my entire life history consists of a dirty garbage scow and being poked and prodded by you medical school _rejects_, before being forced to eat this slop, you mean," he said, pushing his practically untouched breakfast tray roughly towards the nurse, who jumped back nervously. Arthur's voice was rising steadily and pretty soon, he was at a full blown yell. "Now I _refuse_ to believe that there isn't something more you can do for me, apart from incarcerate me in this semi-private room," he gestured expansively to the old man in the bed opposite him. "You snore, by the way," he told him and the old man just flipped him off before farting loudly, rolling over and going back to sleep. "There have to be more tests you can run, if you expand you tiny minds a bit past the stage of leeches and bloodletting. Now, I demand you get people in here to either identify or cure me. Or are the police here too busy eating donuts or fucking moose or whatever you have here in the back end of nowhere to...."

"Well?" Sherriff Pellinore asked, cutting off the sound to the room next door.

She never knew why she did it. Maybe the devil on her left shoulder had finally skewered the angel on her right, but she had a split second to think, and in that time, she made the decision.

"No," she said, smiling widely and faux-innocently at the Sherriff. "I've never seen him before in my life."

~*~

When Sophia and Tristan returned to the _Gloriana_, they were greeted by Geoffrey.

"Arthur has left me," she told the butler. He'd known her for years, ever since she was a teenager, and she could tell by the level of his raised eyebrow that he didn't believe her. But, like all good servants, he knew when to keep his mouth shut and didn't say a word.

"He's found some floozy in Ealdor, and decided to stay there a while. If his father calls, tell him he's busy or not around."

She walked past him, closely followed by the ever present Tristan. As soon as the door to her bedroom closed behind her, she turned and tugged the father of her child close.

"My husband is gone. Let's celebrate," she breathed huskily before tugging him down to kiss her.

~*~

Merlin stumbled in from the heat, wiping the sweat from his brow. Lance was sitting calmly in the air conditioned interior of Gaius' workshop, half an eye on the local news and half an eye on the tools he was cleaning. "Hot outside?" he asked casually, sending Merlin a grin as he walked past to the refrigerator to grab some more of the ever present water.

"Smart ass," Merlin groaned. "You might have warned me how damn hot it was before you convinced me to move over here."

Lance snorted. "And miss seeing you turning fire-engine red in the sunlight? Never."

Merlin threw the bottle cap at his head, and cheered when it hit its target right between Lance's eyes. He laughed at the outrage on his friend's face and his mind started to wander as Lance started cursing him out of it. His eyes drifted over the messy workshop with fondness before settling on the TV. As he did, a picture flashed up in the screen and he nearly choked on the water he was swallowing. As Lance crowed and started talking about Karma being a bitch, Merlin leapt forward and grabbed the remote, turning up the volume of the news.

 

_"... "And once again, we ask if anyone knows the identity of this man, to please contact the Sherriff's Department or Ealdor Community Hospital. The unidentified man, shown here, was found this morning in the water several miles off the coast with no memory or who he is or how he got there."_

"That's him!" Merlin exclaimed.

"Who?" Lance asked, confused.

"That prat on the boat, you know? The asshole that pushed me overboard."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I'd remember that look of distain anywhere," Merlin insisted, indicating to the television. The footage changed to a scene outside Ealdor Community Hospital where the ever well-presented Sophia was walking briskly towards a car out of shot. She was followed by Burly Security Guard who Merlin recognised from the boat. The anchorman continued speaking.

 

_"Earlier, there were hopes of identification, but the unidentified woman left, disappointed._"

 

"I don't believe it," Merlin half-laughed. "She's skipping out on him. She's leaving him there."

"God, what a bitch."

"I know," Merlin agreed, muting the television. "There goes any chance I had of getting my money back."

"Maybe you should head down anyway, just to check."

"There's no point," Merlin sighed. "She's long gone from the looks of it."

"No, not from her. From him."

Merlin rolled his eyes and started to walk away.

"Oh come on Lance. He doesn't know who he is, never mind who I am..."

Merlin stopped in his tracks, a plan half formed in his mind. No, that couldn't possibly work... could it? He turned again and switched back up the volume. The reporter was talking to a stunning young dark haired woman wearing a white lab coat that the screen identified as Dr. Nimueh Newman, Head of Psychiatry at the hospital.

 

_"Again, we're appealing for anyone out there who knows who this is to contact the proper authorities. I'm sure someone out there must know who he is, must remember him or know him. Someone has to be missing him. Besides, he's driving us crazy._"

 

"Oh Lance, there is a God, and he loves me," he told his friend.

Lance looked between his friend and the screen, understanding dawning on his face.

"Merlin, no... I know that you're thinking..."

"I got to go talk to my kids," Merlin said, heading out the door. "Then I need you to take them to the Salvation Army to get some clothes."

"Merlin, don't do this. You can't. Merlin, this is illegal! Merlin!"

But he was already out the door.

 

~*~

 

Merlin tightened the cuffs of his suit jacket as he hurried across the hospital car park. He tried to present a calm and confident air as he met the Sherriff at the reception desk.

"Merlin Emerson?" he asked as Merlin approached.

"That's me," Merlin grinned. He extended his hand for the other man to shake. "And from the uniform, I'm guessing you're Sherriff Pellinore."

"Got it in one," the other man smiled. "Now, if you just follow me, we have some things of his that you could use to identify him."

He followed the Sherriff down a series of twists and turns before being granted entrance to the psychiatric ward. Merlin suppressed a laugh of mirth. Seriously? They put him here? This just got better and better. Sherriff Pellinore opened the door to a small consulting room where they had several of Blond Prat's things lying on the table. He handed Merlin a sheaf of photographs. They were all of Arthur, in various stages of disgruntlement, all taken with him dressed in either hospital scrubs or wrapped in a sheet. Merlin recognised the photos from the one the local news network kept flashing up on the screen.

"Well?" Pellinore asked expectantly, and a little hopefully.

"Oh, that's him alright. That's my Artie," Merlin said, grinning and determined to make this as humiliating for Blond Prat as possible. The smile of relief on Pellinore's face was comical. He must have been giving them a _really_ hard time.

"You're sure that this is your... husband? Partner?" Pellinore stumbled over the last word and Merlin smiled in amusement.

"Husband," he told him kindly. "And I'm sure. I'd know those baby blues anywhere," Merlin grinned.

"Well, I was going to send them over the A.P. wire, but since you're here..." he handed Merlin the photographs. He reached for the other item on the table which was a brown padded envelope.

"Well then, you'll be wanting these," he said, tipping the meagre contents onto the scratched surface. He picked up a pair of red silk boxers from the table, leaving the waterlogged and useless watch alone.

"There's some lettering here," he started, fingering the delicate gold stitching. "A.R.P. He thought they might mean something, his initials maybe, but he didn't know what they meant."

"Well, he wouldn't cos you see, I bought them for him on eBay," Merlin blurted out the first thing in his head. "He always said he'd like a pair of silk boxers and I got them for him as a joke. Turns out, he likes them. Decadent bastard."

Pellinore blinked as Merlin tugged the boxers out of his hands a bit more forcefully than strictly necessary.

"Ok then." He picked up the phone that was lying n the desk and dialled an extension line. "Doc?" he said down the phone after a moment. "We've got a winner."

~*~

 

Merlin was led into a large common room to wait for Blond Prat to arrive. The bright and airy feel that the large windows brought to the room was dampened by the visible wire in the glass, reinforcing the windows. People sat scattered around the room, some muttering to themselves, some staring into space, some reading books. One man was steadily eating his way through the plastic chequer set sitting in front of him.

After about ten minutes of waiting, the young doctor that Merlin had seen interviewed on the television appeared, Arthur and a nurse in tow. He was wearing a startlingly white set of scrubs and a hospital issue bathrobe with white paper slippers that must do nothing to keep the chill from his feet.

Steeling himself for the performance of his life, he bounced up from his slouch against the wall.

"Artie!" he grinned happily, arms open as he moved forward.

"Wait!" Arthur held up his hand, stopping Merlin in his tracks. For a second, he thought this whole thing was going to blow up in his face until the blond said "I don't recognise this man," and Merlin breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"You're husband has had an almost total loss of memory," Dr. Newman explained kindly.

"Husband?" Arthur sounded horrified, but everyone ignored him. Merlin could get used to this.

"I can't believe he doesn't even know his own husband!" Merlin exclaimed, putting a look of confused hurt on his face.

Arthur looked Merlin up and down, the distain clearly written on his face. "This missing link person is not my husband," he insisted, walking past Merlin.

"Oh Arthur, come on..."

"Arthur?" the blond man mused, rolling the name around on his tongue. "Arthur.... That does sound familiar."

"See? It's coming back to you," Merlin beamed.

"And what's your name?" Arthur asked him.

"I'm Merlin."

"As in the _wizard_ Merlin? You're the one that should be locked up in here friend," Arthur said, trying to brush past him again. Merlin sighed and took hold of his hand. He tugged Arthur over to a chair and pushed him into it.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself. He saw Dr. Newman smile at the exasperated tone and knew he was on the right track.

"Everything is going to be ok. Your name is Arthur," Merlin told him, crouching down to Arthur's eye level. "You're my husband. I'm Merlin, Merlin Emerson. Seriously, would I make this up? Merlin and Arthur? Come on Babes, you know we've always laughed about that. We've been married for over three years now, though we've been together for almost sixteen."

Arthur looked up at him with confused blue eyes and for a few moments, Merlin felt guilty. Then he remembered the way he had treated him and the people who worked for him; how he continued to treat the people around him so much so that the doctors and the Sherriff were desperate to get him off their hands.

"I know I have forgotten a lot of things," Arthur said to him. "But I truly, from the depths of my soul, do not remember you!"

"Maybe you'll remember this then," Merlin murmured, leaning forward to press a soft, lingering kiss on Arthur's lips. For a long moment, Arthur did nothing, before he kissed back, for just a second. Merlin sucked in a breath and Arthur broke the kiss and pushed him away. Merlin stood, allowing Arthur to stand and pass, and ignored the traitorous tingle on his lips.

"I don't remember him," Arthur told Dr. Newman, blushing bright red. "If I knew him, don't you think there would be _some_ spark of recognition?"

"I don't know," she sighed a long suffering sigh. Pellinore was studiously studying the floor, not meeting Merlin's eye. He was blushing slightly and Merlin found it adorable. The nurse beside him who had accompanied Dr. Newman grinned openly at him.

"God, I don't believe you're not questioning this further!" Arthur exclaimed. He turned to the blushing Sherriff. "He could be some stranger off the street."

"Well, he seems to like you," Pellinore reasoned, guiding Arthur back towards Merlin. "And he's a nice guy..."

"He's good looking," the nurse piped up. "Nice and clean."

"Thank you," Merlin grinned at them all. It was good to have them on his side.

"What's my full name?" Arthur demanded, rounding on Merlin.

"Oh come on..."

"What is it?" Arthur demanded.

"Mr. Arthur Emerson," Merlin told him gleefully. A look of horror crossed Arthur's face.

"_I_ took _your_ name?" he asked in a horrified tone.

"Of course you did," Merlin smiled. "You insisted on it. Wouldn't hear a word said otherwise."

Arthur gulped. "Before that... what was my name before that?"

"You mean your maiden name?" Merlin was officially having too much fun with this.

Arthur glared at him.

"In case it escaped your notice, I'm not a maiden!" he said angrily.

"Oh believe me, I noticed." Merlin accompanied the statement with a leer that set the others grinning again.

"Fine," Arthur snapped. "What was my _'maiden name'_ then."

"Nice use of air quotes," Merlin commented dryly. "Your name was Arthur... Goolihy." Internally, Merlin winced. Goolihy? What the hell was he thinking? He used to be so good at thinking on his feet.

"Arthur Goolihy?" Arthur was rightfully sceptical. "Where the hell did I grow up? Dogpatch?"

"Nah," Merlin smiled, covering up his nerves. "Over there in Goober, Idaho. Of course, it's a nuclear waste dump now..." he mused.

"Where did I meet you?"

"We met in high school," Merlin told him. "I had moved from England with my mum in my junior year. You were captain of the soccer team; I was a fan of captains of the soccer team. You asked me out, I said no at first because I thought it was a joke, but you kept on asking and asking and asking. It bordered on stalking at one point. Still, eventually I said yes. The rest is history. Come on, you gotta know this..."

"No. No, I don't know any of this and I don't know you! I need some proof," he stated, throwing himself down opposite Chequers Eating Guy. The poor unfortunate man happened to look up briefly and Arthur met his eye.

"Stop staring at me," he snapped. "Just keep on eating your chequers."

"Look," Dr. Newman sighed, arriving at Merlin's side. "If it were up to us, we'd give him to you, free and clear. He'd be all yours. But he's right."

"I'm going to need some verification," the Sherriff told him.

Merlin sighed. "Look, I understand. I just... I was sure he'd recognise me so I didn't bring anything. Oh, wait! There is something. He has a tattoo." Merlin could see Arthur's ears prick up and he tilted his head to hear more of what Merlin said. "It's a small red and gold dragon, and it's in a fairly private place." He indicated to his right hip, his fingers brushing the spot near to his groin where he knew Arthur had the tattoo. He remembered seeing it all too well. "I never talk about this in public," he continued. "It's fairly personal and fairly unique."

They turned to the sound of Arthur's chair squeaking across the floor as he turned to look at him in shock.

"How did you..." he trailed off, his hand unconsciously brushing the tattoo.

Merlin smiled widely and opened his arms.

"Come to Daddy," he grinned, laughing at the look of horror on Arthur's face and the high five Dr. Newman gave Sherriff Pellinore behind his back.

~*~

"So..." Arthur said as he sat in the car next to his... husband? He still had a hard time believing it.

"So..." the other man grinned widely. He was sitting at ease, driving with one hand. The other propped up his head and was leaning on the open window. The air was hot and muggy and it took him, Arthur apparently, several tries to get a proper breath. It was like swimming in heat. He fiddled with the buttons on the air con but the man beside him just grinned again.

"Sorry, it's busted," he told him and Arthur groaned. What was this, the dark ages? He pulled at the neck of only item of clothing he currently possessed, which was a navy blue jumpsuit with the words '_Ealdor Refuse Company_ printed in garish yellow letters on the front. It had been shoved on him to 'protect his modesty' or whatever when they had pulled him half naked from the ocean. To date, it was the only thing he owned. Even his shoes were some of those ridiculously flimsy paper shoes from the hospital. Merlin had gone looking in lost and found at the hospital, but had come up with nothing.

"So... what was I doing in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night?"

"Um... diving for oysters," Merlin said after a moment. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him.

"Diving... for oysters," he said sceptically, an eyebrow raised.

"Yep," Merlin said cheerfully. "It's something you like to do at night."

"I see," Arthur replied evenly. Oyster diving? That didn't sound like him...

He thought.

"Do I have a job?" he asked.

"Not really," Merlin told him. "We both used to work when we first left school. Neither of us wanted college. But work didn't really suit you. I was in training to become a carpenter, but you were kind of aimless, working in fast food places, Walmart, that kind of thing. After a while we sat down to talk about it cos you were so unhappy. You decided to stay at home and become a house husband. Especially when we got the girls..."

"Girls?" Arthur definitely did _not_ squeak.

"We have kids," Merlin told him.

Arthur turned from him and rested his head on the window pane, watching the passing scenery. They had left the town limits a few minutes ago, and were now heading into the country. Before too long, thankfully, Merlin was signalling and pulling their _people carrier, for Christ's sake_ into a piece of land surrounded by trees.

Arthur looked around him as Merlin pulled to a stop. "_ I feel faint_", he thought as he looked around.

Tall pine trees ran around the property. The grass in the front yard was almost up to Merlin's waist when he hopped down from the car. _Two_ rusted cars lay abandoned in the next to the driveway and a beat up pickup truck was parked next to the house. And the house itself? Arthur cringed. Made of wood, it looked near to falling apart. A porch ran from the side of the house, wrapping around to the back. Five sagging steps led up to the front door. He craned his neck and saw several small buildings in the back yard.

Arthur's heart sank. From the looks of things, they were struggling for money. Even more terrifying, there were children's toys, balls and bikes scattered against the yard. God, he really did have kids.

"We moved here?" he asked once he found his voice again. "Deliberately?"

"You should have seen the last place," Merlin told him, heading up the steps. "It was a real dump."

He led Arthur through the front door which opened into a large living room. There were steps down which Arthur didn't see at first, and nearly tripped. Merlin righted him and smiled crookedly at him.

"You did that the first time we saw this place too," he smiled. He pulled him down the stairs and Arthur blindly followed. The room was, if he was honest, a compete catastrophe. Books, games, shoes and clothes littered the room; CD's and DVD's were piled on the wooden floor next to the TV and the controllers of a game station snaked out across the floor. Arthur followed Merlin dumbly as he showed him around the ground floor, pointed out the mid-sized kitchen with the faded and scratched worktops into the back living room, similarly desecrated by the remains of human life. They went through the dining room and bypassed the bathroom before ending up outside the open doorway to their bedroom. Merlin smirked at him as Arthur looked nervously in.

"We've done a lot of miles on that mattress, huh?" Merlin leered at him. Arthur gulped and looked away.

"What's upstairs?" he asked, to distract him. At that moment, a screech of rage rang out around the house.

"GUINEVERE!!!"

The door at the top of the stairs, the door slammed open and two young girls darted down the stairs. The first, a pretty young black girl with a wide, happy smile and a mass of dark curls leapt down the last few steps and ran around the coffee table piled high with things in the centre of the room. She was closely followed by another girl, with pale, pale skin and long brown hair. Her eyes flashed in anger as she reached the table and picked up random object and started throwing them at the girl.

"You took apart my hair dryer!" she yelled, lobbing a book at her sister's head.

"I thought I could put it back together!" the other girl laughed, cheerfully dodging the items being thrown her way.

"Woah, woah, girls!" Merlin shouted over the din, waving his hands for attention. "Look whose home." He gestured towards Arthur who felt a little weak at the knees.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hi, Dad."

The girls barely acknowledged him before going back to their argument.

"I have two daughters?" he managed eventually.

"Three," Merlin corrected, pointing up the stairs. Another girl, much younger than the rest, was peeking her head out around the door, watching the proceedings. "Don't forget about Hunith."

Hunith wave at him.

Arthur needed to sit down.

~*~

Merlin paced outside the closed doorway to their room, checking his watch for what felt like the fiftieth time. Jesus, it was worse than having a woman in there. Arthur had gone in there almost an hour ago to change clothes and it had been suspiciously silent since. He was almost worried that his 'husband' would do a runner out the window.

Morgana passed, idly drinking a bottle of coke she had gotten from the fridge.

"He's been in there an hour," he said, snagging her attention. "What kind of clothes did you get him?"

"The usual," she replied. "Jeans, shirts, sweaters, t-shirts." Merlin wasn't comforted by the gleam in her eyes. Morgana hadn't liked what he had told them about Arthur after he had pushed him overboard, and Merlin was worried that she was determined to make Arthur's time with them a lot harder than it would be. Not that he necessarily objected on principle, but still...

"The right sizes?" he asked.

"You never said sizes," she grinned before skipping, actually _skipping_, back to the living room. "Just clothes."

Merlin groaned. This could be bad. He was just about to knock and enter the bedroom when the door opened and Arthur appeared. It took everything in him not to laugh at the image in front of him.

Arthur stood there in clothing that was at least seven sizes too big for him. The shirt was made for a man about three times his size, and hung loosely on his frame. The colour was a horrible bright yellow which did nothing for his complexion. And the trousers were a good two inches too short and frayed at the knees. It took everything in him not to burst out laughing.

"Are you telling me that I actually wear this out in public?" Arthur asked, the familiar sneer in his voice. "Apart from the fact that it is a rag, it is also the size of a tent, which I am obviously not!"

Merlin smirked inwardly. Oh this was going to be fun.

"Well Babes, you gotta admit, you've lost a lot of weight," he said cajolingly. "Don't you remember? You were out/in, fat/thin for _years_. You went on some kind of fad diet you got off Oprah Winfrey a few months ago and we haven't really been able to afford a new wardrobe for you yet."

Arthur looked down uncertainly.

"Was I also shorter?" he asked, tugging at his pant leg.

"Well you had a bad back," Merlin said, gently pushing his shoulder down so he was hunched forward. "You used to walk all bent over like this. The pants used to fall a few inches shorter this way and you weren't tripping over them."

Arthur took a few steps like this, before straightening and looking Merlin in the eye.

"Really?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course," Merlin beamed at him. "Want to meet the girls?" he asked to distract him, and the look of horror crossed the blonds' features again. With a little bit of malicious glee, he pulled him into the front living room where the girls were waiting. His kids were sitting on or next to the couch, each in worlds of their own. Hunith, the artist in the family, was leaning against the couch as she coloured a blank sheet of paper with her crayons. There was a worrying amount of pink on that page, and Merlin was pretty certain it had something to do with princesses. His youngest was currently obsessed with them, Disney princesses in particular, and the rest of the family had been subjected to many of the movies many times in the past few years. Gwen sat beside her, her nose stuck in a book. She was angled away from Morgana and as Merlin got closer, he understood why. She was in the middle of '_Twilight_', which was definitely not hers. Morgana had hounded him for weeks until he had caved and bought her the entire series just to get her to stop asking. He was _sick_ of hearing about sparkling vampires, and when he bought her the books, there had been blessed silence on the subject for weeks as she read them. She was very possessive of them, and never let her sisters so much as touch them. Merlin sighed, foreseeing a massive tantrum when Morgana realised what Gwen was reading. Morgana was just sitting, watching them with far too perceptive eyes. She occasionally took a drink, but never took her eyes away.

"Ok, you ready?" he asked Arthur as they stopped in front of them. Merlin got the impression that the answer was definitely 'no' but ploughed on anyway.

"Well to start off with, we have Morgana. She's the eldest, and she's twelve."

"Almost thirteen," Morgana pouted.

"That you are," Merlin smiled. She flipped her hair back across her shoulders, and continued to stare Arthur down. He shifted uncomfortably beside him, and Merlin swallowed his smile. He could understand his nervousness though; Morgana had always been very protective of him and Will, as they had always been of all of the girls, right from the first time they came home. She unfortunately remembered her life before they adopted her, and intensely disliked anything or anyone who threatened them.

"Next, we have this gorgeous girl. She's the techie in the family. I've lost count of the times she's taken apart the toaster or something." He placed an affectionate hand on top of Gwen's head and she looked up briefly, smiling at him. "Hopefully, you'll be able to put things back together someday soon, huh?" He pulled her up and settled his hands on her shoulders and looking at Arthur. "Can you remember her name Babes?" he asked him. "Come on, give it a try."

Arthur looked Gwen up and down. "Maureen?" he suggested eventually.

"Maureen?" Gwen mouthed, looking between Arthur and himself.

"Um, no. It's Guinevere," Merlin explained. "We call her Gwen for short. Surely you her Morgana screeching it a while ago."

"I do not screech," Morgana pouted, folding her arms across her chest, slumping down in her sulk. In doing so, she caught sight of the book Gwen was reading.

"THAT'S MY BOOK!" she screeched, jumping up from the couch. Gwen broke from under Merlin's hands and bolted through the kitchen and out the back door, probably heading towards the old shed that Merlin had cleared out and fixed to for them to use as their club house. Morgana raced after her, yelling the whole way. Hunith, seeing her sisters flee, picked up her chunky crayons awkwardly and started after them. Merlin caught her as she went past. He swept her up in his arms, and she squirmed, giggling.

"Hi Daddy. My name is Hunith," his youngest grinned, and Arthur smiled awkwardly back. "I am six years, six months, three weeks and two days old, and I like pink."

"And don't you forget one single day," Merlin grinned affectionately. "Come on; give your dad a kiss."

"NONONONONO!" Hunith yelled, squirming out of his grasp and taking off after her sisters.

"Great kids, aren't they?" he smiled at Arthur, who was currently dumping the various detritus from the couch onto the floor and throwing himself down on it in a dramatic way. Merlin smirked and perched on the arm of the nearby armchair.

"There's so many of them." Arthur pouted.

"Only three," Merlin replied cheerfully. "Though you did always have your heart set on six, so I guess we keep trying." He ran a foot playfully down Arthur's leg, and he shifted uncomfortably. Merlin smirked. Payback was fun.

"How do you mean, keep trying?" Arthur asked, a dawning look of horror crossing his face as he processed Merlin's words.

"With the adoption agency, of course," Merlin deadpanned. The look on the prats face was worth every embarrassing blush he had sent his way while working on the boat.

"Oh thank God," Arthur murmured, looking at his stomach and then at Merlin, who had to laugh.

"No, no, they're adopted. We got Morgana first, and got her when she was almost five. Unfortunately, she remembers a lot of her life before us. Her dad died, and her mum went off the rails, and there was exposure to drugs and questions of... well, suffice it to say, it wasn't a great environment for her. Her mother died of an overdose when she was five, and we had been on the waiting list. We started  
fostering her and a year later, we got the all clear to adopt her." Arthur nodded, digesting the information, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Next, we got Hunith. She's almost seven, as she told you. She was taken from her mother at birth due to safety issues and we got her right away. Man, it was hard with a baby in the house and Morgana was still fairly new. Still, we bucked up admirably. Finally, came Gwen. She's eleven and came five years ago. Her parents were in a car crash and died, and she needed a home. We took her in gladly. That's it so far. Those are the girls."

"Why do they all have English accents?" Arthur asked.

"Um... they like to model themselves on me, and we go home to visit my mom a lot. She lives in Wiltshire," Merlin bullshitted, but Arthur barely even heard him.

"They're so loud," Arthur whimpered pathetically, looking out the door they had disappeared through.

"We wouldn't trade them though," Merlin reprimanded him. "We're lucky to have them."

"Because we're both men?" Arthur asked.

"No, because of your background," Merlin said, studying his nails so Arthur wouldn't see his smirk.

"What do you mean," he asked worriedly.

"Well, with the history of alcoholism in your family, it's not the best background," Merlin explained patiently.

"I'm an alcoholic?" Arthur was horrified.

"Not you," Merlin told him. "Your mother. One of the biggest lushes I've ever met."

"My mother's a lush."

"_Was_ a lush babe. She died three years ago. Cirrhosis of the liver, remember?"

"And my father?" Arthur gulped.

"Oh he's alive and well," Merlin beamed. "And due for parole in what? Two years."

"Oh God," Arthur groaned, burying his head in the pillow.

"Now, now, it's ok," Merlin placated. He pulled the blond up off the chair, and towards the kitchen.

"The doctor said it'll all come back. You just need to get into your regular routine again."

"And what is my regular routine?"

~*~

"I prepared and handled raw food?"

Arthur felt bile rise in his throat as he poked the pieces of chicken on the dish in front of him. He couldn't do this.

"Funny, Arthur," his husband said from where he sat at the table with the girls. They were all looking at him expectantly. "Come on, we're starving here."

Arthur poked at the chicken on more and sighed. This was disgusting. It was all slimy! He shuddered and stepped away from the dish. He turned to the oven, and blanched. It looked as complicated as anything he had ever seen, covered in dials and turns and two separate clocks and timers. He eventually found the dial labelled 'Top Oven' and twisted it up to the top.

Other than a hissing sound, nothing happened.

He opened the oven and looked inside. Nothing was happening. There wasn't even a light showing.

"Nothing's happening," he told Merlin.

"That's cos you've got to light the burner," Merlin said in a patronising tone, before exchanging looks with the girls. They all burst out laughing and Arthur felt his cheeks flame. He spied a box of matches on the counter next to the cooker and picked them up, striking one immediately. He reached in to light the gas oven when suddenly, it flared back at him. He yelped and dropped back into his ass, clutching his arm.

"Arthur, are you ok?" Merlin asked worriedly, arriving at his side. He pulled his hand away from his other arm and Arthur winced at the patch of lightly reddened skin he saw there.

"I smell hair," he pouted.

"Don't be a baby," Merlin chided, pulling him up off the floor and settling him in a chair. "You'll be fine. We'll just go run it under a tap...

Before they could move again, Morgana and Gwen, who had moved at Arthur's shout, appeared out of nowhere, each brandishing fire extinguishers. They turned them in his direction and sprayed, covering Arthur's arm and torso with white foam. After a good ten seconds, they stopped.

"Way to hustle, guys," Merlin said admiringly. Arthur just sat there, covered in foam; eyes closed and wished he was anywhere else but here. He opened his eyes again.

It hadn't worked.

~*~

After a dinner of very overdone chicken and soggy, over-boiled potatoes, Merlin stood and made his way over to the door.

"Well, that was... interesting Babes, but I gotta go," he said over his shoulder.

"Wait!" Arthur scrambled after him. "Where are you going?"

"To the bar to meet the boys for a few beers," Merlin said. "I always do at the end of the day." It was a lie. He rarely drank and was actually heading over to Lance's to work on their business plans some more, but Arthur didn't need to know that.

"Don't leave me with them," Arthur hissed, indicating into the kitchen where the girls were arguing. Again.

"You'll be fine," Merlin reassured, certain he wouldn't be. His girls seemed intent on giving Arthur a run for his money. "Look, they all share the loft as a room. It runs the length of the house." He pointed to the stairs. "Just make sure their homework is done, they brush their teeth and get to bed before I get back, yeah?"

"And when will that be?"

"When I feel like it," Merlin said, shrugging into his jacket. "Look, we've always been like this. You never had a problem with it before. Look, I have to go. Have fun with the girls," he said cheerfully. He leaned in and kissed Arthur's cheek before heading out, a smile on his lips and bounce in his steps.

So far, this was fun.

~*~

Merlin sat in Lance's living room, looking over the paperwork again.

"I still think we need a pitch before we present this," he said to Lance, but his oldest friend wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. He was sitting there, gazing at Merlin in a little bit of awe in his features.

"I still can't believe you went through with it," he said.

"Lance..."

"No, you don't get to gloss over this," Lance told him, putting the business plan aside. "This is too huge. And awesome," he grinned.

"It is kind of cool," Merlin laughed. "And the thing is, I never really saw myself as a vengeful person before. But there's just something about him that drives me crazy. He is the biggest prat I have ever met. The first time I saw him..."

"As soon as you had picked your jaw up off the floor and stopped drooling, you mean," Lance interrupted.

"Yes, that too," Merlin glared. "After I did that, the first time he opened his mouth to speak, I wanted to punch him. And that feeling has only gotten stronger every time I have seen him."

"Still," Lance said carefully, "this is a little extreme, even for you."

"I'm close to broke, Lance," Merlin said, completely serious. "The move really drained us. I had to get all the kids whole new sets of school books, I have to pay tax and insurance on two cars because I can't put the kids in the back of the truck with the lumber, and likewise, I can't put the tools in the back of the car with the girls. The house is close to falling apart, but it's all I could afford. I can't take the time off to fix it up and I can't afford to pay someone else to do it, so it's getting worse. To top it all off, I have the girl's principal _already_ breathing down my neck about the girls and I can't afford another slew of babysitters, even if I could find some that they haven't already run off. That job on _The Gloriana_ was a godsend. It would have given me room and breathing space to pay off a few bills and get started on the house. But he ruined that. And I _know_ I wouldn't have gotten satisfaction through a lawyer, because even if I could afford one, his would be better. So, you're right Lance. It _is_ a bit extreme, but it's an extreme situation. I can do nothing else."

Lance was silent for a long while, just looking at Merlin. Merlin wouldn't meet his eye, fiddling with the ring on the can of coke that he'd been drinking all night.

"I didn't realise it was that bad," Lance said eventually.

"I didn't want you to know. You'd only want to help, and Lance, I'm not taking money from you when I don't know when I'll be able to pay it back. But this way... this way we get a nanny, repair man and a cook all in one. And we manage to stay afloat. Besides, he _totally_ deserves it. He's an asshole."

"Ok," Lance said, thankfully abandoning the emotionally charged moment. Merlin had always hated those, and hated them even more since Will's death. "How long are you going to keep him for?"

"I've got it all worked out. I'm going to be generous here, and say he earns about $1,000 a week. Very generous, I know but he'll be doing a lot of work. So, at $1,000 a week, he should pay off his debt in three months."

"You think you can keep up the charade for so long?" Lance asked.

"Definitely," Merlin replied grimly.

"So, tonight's your first night with him huh?" Lance arched an eyebrow.

Merlin grinned.

"Yes indeed. And trust me; I'm going to have some fun with him."

~*~

Arthur was just about to doze off after finally getting the brats to stay in their room when the front door slammed open and Merlin staggered in. He closed the door with the exaggerated movements of someone extremely drunk trying to be quiet, and failing miserably. He weaved his way across the floor, tripping over things and cursing under his breath before making it to the door of the room. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh good, you're awake," he beamed. He was dripping wet from the rain pouring outside and made no effort to stem the streams of water flowing his hair and clothing.

"And you are drunk," Arthur observed. He could _smell_ the beer on Merlin's clothing from where he lay.

"Only a little," Merlin grinned in a stage whisper, holding his thumb and forefinger a half an inch apart. He stumbled forward again, and looked at the floor as if it betrayed him. Arthur sat up and watched as he hopped on one foot, taking off one shoe then the other. He was mildly disappointed that he didn't fall. When he shucked off his t-shirt and fell out of his jeans, he landed on the side of the bed. "I'm glad you waited up for me," he said huskily, and though his body seemed to like that tone of voice on Merlin, his brain quietly freaked out.

"No!" He hated how he sounded like a Victorian Virgin on her wedding night, but he panicked.

"Oh come on," Merlin pouted. "You jumped my bones on our first date!"

"Oh god, I'm a manwhore," Arthur moaned quietly to himself. The more he learned about himself and his past, the more he realised that maybe not remembering would be a _good_ thing.

"Huh?" Merlin asked drunkenly. He slithered up the bed beside Arthur and leaned in for a kiss. Arthur again felt the shock of electricity that had made him kiss back in the hospital, but it was too soon. He pulled back.

"What? No boom boom?" Merlin pouted, and Arthur rolled his eyes at the other man. There he was, a man in his thirties, and he still used the words 'boom boom'.

"Right, no boom boom."

"I understand," Merlin sighed. "You probably just want to get down to sleep. It's been a long day for you."

"Thanks," Arthur said sincerely as Merlin got off the bed. He settled down into the blankets and had just closed his eyes when he heard Merlin clear his throat.

"Babes?" he said, holding the door to the living room open. Arthur propped himself up on his elbow, not sure he was going to like this.

~*~

"The reason you have a bad back is because the bed is too soft," Merlin explained as he ushered a sullen Arthur into the living room. "So, you sleep in the living room couch. Makes it easier for you."

Arthur threw the few toys and books that littered the furniture onto the floor before dropping onto the couch in a huff. He punched the cushions he found there into some sort of shape before stealing the blanket off the back of the chair and wrapping himself up in it. He glared at Merlin the entire time.

"Night Babes," Merlin chirped cheerfully before closing the door to the bedroom. A few minutes later a flash of lightning lit the night sky and a clap of thunder echoed around the house. He heard Draco and Griffin start barking like maniacs, and heard the clatter of their nails on the floor. Moments later, he heard Arthur shouting in surprise and pain as the dogs bounded up onto the chair and on top of him.

"Oh God, my body!" he yelled.

Merlin collapsed on the bed, convulsing with silent laughter as he heard Arthur finally shoo the dogs away. That had been better than he'd expected. The beer he had sprinkled liberally all over his t-shirt and taken a swig of before he entered the house had really helped seal the deal.

He settled down in bed, listening to the rain on the rood and window. He was almost asleep when he heard another yelp from the living room.

Guess Arthur had found the leak in the roof then. Or rather, the leak had found Arthur.

Grinning to himself, he turned over and dropped straight off to sleep.

~*~

Arthur awoke to a very large, very wet tongue bathing his face. Whoever it was had terrible morning breath. He opened his eyes just in time to see a large dangle of drool detach from the mutt looking down on him and head towards his face. Yelping, he flung his face to the side, catching the large wet patch on his neck instead.

"Oh God, that's disgusting!" he shouted.

"Well, if you got up on time, Griff wouldn't have to wake you up, would he?" a far too amused voice asked. Craning his head over the beast's body, he saw Merlin standing there, grinning from ear to ear. It looked entirely idiotic and far too chirpy for someone who had come in completely hammered the night before. Merlin, his husband (and he still couldn't believe that one), straightened up from the wall and walked towards him.

"What time is it?" Arthur yawned, noticing through the window that the sun had barely lit the sky.

"It's almost six," he replied.

"SIX?" Arthur yelled incredulously. "God, wake me up at a decent hour," he grumbled before turning over to try to back to sleep.

"Sorry Babes, no can do," Merlin said, again sounding _way_ too cheerful for so early in the morning. He tugged the blanket from Arthur's grasp. "The girls need their lunches packed for school. I've got to find some tools from the back shed that we just threw everything into in the move. Up you get."

Arthur considered pouting. He was almost sure he would get his way. But just then, a shriek rent the air.

"HUNITH!!!!" Morgana yelled, and the sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs shattered the morning near-silence.

"Shhh!" Hunith told them, coming to hide behind the couch where Arthur was still seated. She was clutching something close to her chest, something Arthur couldn't see. "I'm not here."

"Hunith!" Morgana came tearing down the stairs after her. "Where is she?" she asked the two men. "The little brat stole my new hairbrush."

Hunith's giggle gave her away. Morgana stormed around the couch and grabbed it from her hands.

"That's mine," she snapped.

"Morgana, you know better than that. You need to share with your sister."

"It's my brush! I bought it myself with my own money. You let her have everything that's mine!"

Morgana raced back up the stairs, voicing her displeasure through the volume of her feet on the steps.

"It starts," Merlin said dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Come on, you get breakfast started and lunch made. I'll try and wrestle this one into some respectable clothes." He indicated to Hunith, who had launched herself at her father and was currently trying to use him as a climbing frame.

"I wanna wear my princess dress," the six year old stated, and Merlin sighed.

"I guess that whole 'respectable clothes' part is going to be a battle then." He turned from Arthur and picked up Hunith, carrying her up the stairs. Arthur heard him trying to bargain her down to a princess t-shirt as their voices faded. He couldn't help but smile.

~*~

Breakfast was an absolute, unmitigated disaster. Who knew that turning up the toaster dial all the way to eleven (and why would someone add an '11' in marker pen to a toaster anyway?) would not make the bread toast faster, but would just make it incinerate to a crisp and smoke up the whole kitchen? Well, everyone but Arthur knew this, apparently, if the amount of yelling going on was any indication. They finally all settle on fruit loops and were munching them down while Arthur frantically tried to make their lunches.

Nothing went right for him; the butter was too hard, the bread was too soft, there's wasn't enough Nutella to go around, Hunith, dressed finally in a princess t-shirt with pink trainers, pouted because she wanted crunchy peanut butter rather than smooth, Gwen and Morgana weren't speaking over one thing or another, so there were dozens of 'Dad, please ask Gwen to pass the butter's to intercept. He had finally finished and was throwing the sandwiches into a bag when the school bust honked outside.

"Get a move on girls!" Merlin shouted from his position on the floor in the laundry room. He was attempting to rub Draco dry from where he had jumped in a puddle of mud just that morning, but even Arthur could tell it was a lost cause. He would need a bath. The girls scrambled to get their books and bags and ran out the door, Morgana draining the last of her glass of milk as she did so, leaving it on the piano near the door. As she picked up her lunch, Gwen stopped at Arthur's side to collect the bag.

"Thanks Dad," she said, smiling at him. "You're doing a great job."

Such simple words, but they really gave Arthur a boost, and Arthur smiled at her before she ran for the door.

"I have to get going too," Merlin said, grabbing his tool belt. "Someone's got to keep this family in the lap of luxury."

"Wait, you're leaving me?" Arthur hated the whine in his voice and the way his hand instinctively reached out to grab onto Merlin's arm.

"Babe, I gotta go. I have jobs to get to," he said. "Just... get back to your usual routine like the Doctor said and things will start to come back."

"Ok," Arthur said uncertainly. "But, what is my usual routine?"

"I figured you're forget," Merlin said, rooting around in his pockets. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to him. "So I did it for you. It's your list," he explained. "Every week you would write a list of everything you needed to do during the week, so you wouldn't forget anything."

Arthur looked down at the list in his hand. It was _long_. How did Merlin expect him to get this done in one week? Clean out gutters? Organise tool shed? Mow all of backyard? And this was on top of his regular household chores like cleaning or cooking. When Arthur voiced this, Merlin just smiled.

"Just do your best. Anything you don't get done this week, just add it to next week's one, though that is already quite long. I've done that already too, just to help you out. It's stuck on the fridge. Anyway, have a good day honey!" he said cheerily before heading out the door, a strange spring in his step.

Arthur stood alone in the centre of the large house, looking like a bomb had gone off. Right, apparently this was what he _chose_ to so with his life. It's couldn't e _too_ hard. Right?

 

~*~

Arthur discovered several things about himself and about housework in general over the next few days. He learned if he didn't get up in time in the morning to get the kid's breakfasts and lunches done, the weight of two dogs would wake him and do their jobs as an alarm clock. He learned that said dogs _did not like_ having baths, and would try, and succeed, in escaping the back porch and tear around the yard and the house, drenching everything in dirty, soapy water which then had to be cleaned up. He learned that just because a step stool that wass only a little bit rusted on the outside didn't mean that it wasn't completely rusted on the inside and that it _would_ collapse as soon as he put his weight on it. He also learned that he was in fact **terrified** of spiders and let out embarrassingly loud screams whenever he saw them. Unfortunately, this was often.

He also learned that their cleaning equipment was out to get him. He wasn't being paranoid: they were in fact trying to kill him. The washing machine was on an uneven surface and when he turned it on, it moved forward. He didn't realise this until it had backed him into a corner and he had to vault over the machine to avoid being crushed. He then promptly tripped over the mop bucket, ending up sprawled out face down on the floor. Then the machine decided to overflow. By the time he had the spill cleaned up with the nearest thing he had to hand, (which happened to be the clean clothes basket, which meant everything needed to be done again) the wash cycle had stopped. He opened the door and pulled out an armful of multi-coloured clothing.

Huh.

Most of them had gone in white.

He made a mental note to separate whites and colours from now on.

The vacuum cleaner also had it in for him. When he'd had a moment of ingenuity and used it to clean up the remains of the breakfast, it had blocked up and made insanely awful noises. He'd had to unclog the tube, filled with cereal and banana peels, by hand, which was disgusting. And when he'd gone to change the bag, the damn thing had exploded in his face!

Even the house itself hated him, electrocuting him twice when he was changing a light bulb and pulling plugs out of sockets.

He'd also had to put up with the 'surprises' that his _darling girls_ had left for him, such as a frog in the utility room, the scoops of mud in the end of the washing machine and tumble dryer and constantly unhooking the dog's leads before they left for school so that Arthur would run around for at least half an hour trying to round up Draco and Griffin.

For three days, Arthur scrubbed, mopped, cleaned, polished, lifted and carried. He was up at the crack of dawn, trying to get the brats into their clothes, fed and out the door. His day was filled with chores, chores, and oh surprise surprise, more chores. His day ended well after dark after trying to wrestle Hunith into a bath. That kid was worse than a cat when it came to water. She hated it, and would go to extreme lengths to avoid it, hiding under chairs, in the garden, in the car... He collapsed onto his makeshift bed on the couch around ten o'clock, exhaustion overtaking him before he got up and started the whole dreaded cycle all over again.

And don't get him started on food shopping, especially when he had the girls with him. Arthur actually had nightmares.

He may not remember much, but he _knew_ he had never been this exhausted before. Everything was so hard! Midway through the fourth day, he just needed a break. He sat down on the armchair in the back living room, and just stared at the wall.

He'd get up.

Any minute now.

~*~

Merlin dropped his toolbox onto the porch, nudging it tiredly into its place beneath the bench next to the front door. God he was tired. He pushed open the door of the house, and instantly went on alert. The house was quiet: the kind of quiet that only occurred when the house was empty or the girls were plotting something.

And since he knew that at least Arthur should be home...

"Hello?" he called, closing the door behind him and warily walking down the steps. He'd been ambushed in the past with water balloons, trip wires and on one memorable occasion, snowballs (how they got snowballs in June, Merlin _still_ hadn't figured out) and really didn't need a trip to the emergency room this evening. He had so much to do, with the orders coming in and plans to draw up and he had only a few short hours to do it all in.

He heard a muffled giggle coming from the back living room, and an encouraging 'Good shot!' from Gwen and he groaned. It was going to be bad enough when Merlin told Arthur the truth about everything without him traumatised from the girls and their 'experiments'.

He found the girls clustered around the big armchair in the back living-room. Arthur was sprawled in the chair, a look of pure exhaustion gracing his features. He was staring off into space, jaw slack and eyes unfocussed, not even noticing that Hunith, who was sitting in front of him, trying to toss grapes into his open mouth. As Merlin watched, she missed her target, the fruit bouncing off his nose and landing somewhere in Arthur's lap. Morgana cheered her effort and encouraged her to try again.

"Okay guys, what's going on," he asked, stepping into the room. The three girls smiled beatifically up at him.

"Nothing," Morgana said sweetly. "We're all fine Daddy. How are you?"

"Nice try," Merlin commented, stepping up to Arthur and snapping his fingers in front of his eyes. "What did you do to him?"

"He was like this when we got here," Gwen told him. She, at least, had the grace to look a little guilty at what they were doing. "I think he's broken."

"At least he's quieter now," Morgana piped up. "When we got in, he was just sitting there muttering 'buh buh buh buh" to himself."

"I liked it when he did that," Hunith smiled. "It was funny!"

As if on cue, Arthur blinked and started repeating "buh buh buh buh" over and over again. Hunith squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. Merlin lightly slapped at Arthur's cheek, and grasped his chin in his hand.

"Arthur? Babes?" he called, trying to snag his focus. "What's for dinner?" he asked, knowing it was a lost cause, but unwilling to not try. For all he knew, it would snap Arthur out of his stupor and into a rage. Even that would be better than this practically comatose zombie in front of him.

"Ok guys, out of the way," he told the girls. They scrambled back and Merlin leaned down and hefted Arthur into his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Arthur wasn't exactly a light weight, what with muscle being heavier than fat, but Merlin was stronger than he looked. Plus he hauled lumber for large parts of the day and was in a physically demanding job. Still, he was almost staggering as he pulled open the back door and stepped out onto the porch.

There was a large rain barrel just behind the house, just below the back porch. It had been left there by the previous tenants, and, like so many other things, Merlin hadn't had the time to do anything about it yet. Still, it came in handy now as he reached it and tipped the shell-shocked man feet first into the water.

Arthur came up spluttering, and cursing. Merlin was impressed that Arthur could swear in five different languages, but was very glad that the girls weren't there to hear it. Minds like steel traps, the lot of them. Oh well, on the bright side, at least he wasn't simply repeating 'buh buh buh buh' constantly anymore.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Arthur demanded, pushing back his hair that was dripping water directly into his eyes.

"You went a little crazy," Merlin told him truthfully, sitting on his haunches next to the barrel.

"Can you blame me?" Arthur groaned. "I don't belong here, I can feel it. Don't you think I can feel it? I don't know _how_ to do any of those vile chores and I don't want to. The washing machine attacked me! I swear it was following me across the laundry room. God, this place is a mess. I'm in hell, your children are demons and you're the Devil..."

With that, he cursed again and allowed himself to sink back under the surface of the water. Merlin grinned down at him. Who knew Arthur Pennington had such a flair for high drama? He almost felt sorry for him, but not quite. He reached down into the water and pulled Arthur's face clear of the barrel. As Arthur gulped lungfuls of air and looked up at him pathetically, Merlin couldn't help himself.

"But Baby," he told the blond. "We _like_ you."

~*~

Arthur made Merlin order pizza that night. There was _no way_ he was cooking after his fiasco of a day. Afterwards, he went into the bathroom for a much needed shower. God knows how long that water had been there for. As he stood under the (thankfully hot) spray, he had to physically stop himself from banging his head against the tile in frustration. Why couldn't he remember doing any of these things? There were all _completely_ foreign to him. Surely even muscle memory would account for something, but no. Each task he completed, or tried to complete, felt completely new and strange. And difficult.

Why couldn't he remember more? The doctor had said that once he was home amongst his own possessions and getting back into his old routine, things would start to feel more familiar. He would start to remember. But so far, nothing! Absolutely nothing in this house felt familiar to him. If he didn't know better, he would swear that he had never stepped foot in this house before in his life. It wasn't just that, though. Absolutely every aspect of his life felt completely alien to him. His clothes felt out of shape and loose, nothing fit him properly. Surely he didn't _choose_ to wear those garments. He'd bought some more in a shop called _Target_ and while they fit a bit better, they still felt strange and coarse. And his sleeping arrangements? His back protested far too much from sleeping on the couch. Surely if he was used to it, it wouldn't be so bad. Funnily enough, he hadn't had a problem with the beds in the hospital. Horrendously uncomfortable as they were, they still were not as bad as that damn couch.

And _surely_ he should have some spark of recognition for his children. According to Merlin, they fought long and hard to adopt them, and loved them dearly. But he had no memory of them at all. There was nothing; no memories of bringing Hunith home with them from the hospital so soon after she was born, no memory of Morgana's first Christmas, of holding Gwen when she cried for her birth parents. No memories of holidays or trips out, taking pictures or home movies...

That's it!

Stumbling out of the shower, he wrapped himself in a ratty old bathrobe, not minding he was dripping water and suds everywhere he went. It didn't matter he'd only have to clean it up later. He needed to do this while it was fresh in his mind. He needed to know.

He burst out of the bathroom, and practically slid down the corridor with wet feet. He stumbled into the living room, not one of his most graceful entrances, he'll admit, causing little Hunith to jump and squeak with fright. Ignoring them all, he went over to the cabinet by the television and hauled it open. He flicked through the DVD's and the old VHS cassettes, looking for something that would indicate a home movie. Finding nothing, he moved on to the dresser against one of the walls. He started rifling through drawers, shifting papers and opening boxes, completely oblivious to his audience.

"Um, Arthur?"

Arthur jumped. When had Merlin gotten so close? His husband was standing slightly behind him, a look of confusion on his features.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm looking," Arthur replied, turning back to continue his search,

"Yeah, I can see that," Merlin commented dryly, and Arthur bit back the automatic retort that sprang up from his lips. Surely they didn't fight as much as he felt inclined to? Was a change in personality something he would have to deal with now also? "What are you searching for?" Merlin asked eventually when it became clear that Arthur was too pre-occupied to continue.

"I'm looking for proof," Arthur replied, back turned to his husband and therefore missing the flicker of panic in Merlin's face. "Photographs, home movies, letters, memorabilia. Anything that shows some part of our life together. I've been here for days and have yet to see anything personal of yours and mine. No wedding photos, no videos of the girls at birthday parties, no cards, no silly notes to one another. Nothing!"

"Arthur, Arthur. Calm down." Merlin's voice sounded slightly strained and Arthur almost felt guilty, but they'd been together for years, apparently. He must know by now that Arthur was high maintenance, even if Arthur was only learning that about himself now. Merlin grasped his upper arms and turned him around. "It's ok. I don't think we unpacked them yet. There's still a load of stuff in boxes. And we did lose some stuff in the move. Not that we have much."

"We don't?"Arthur asked, confused.

"Well, we got together quite young, and moved in together right out of high school. I was still in training, and you didn't really know what you wanted to do so you were working a ton of crappy different jobs. Then, we started adopting. We didn't have the money for things like video cameras, or snazzy digital cameras. So, we have some, but not a lot."

Arthur was stunned.

"We were _poor_?"

"We're not poor," Merlin said sternly. "We were never on the poverty line. We weren't flush with money is all. And when we had the girls, we just decided to concentrate on giving the girls the best of everything as much as we could afford. Things like video cameras didn't matter."

"Sorry." Arthur could _feel_ the pout on his face.

"Don't be sorry, Babes," Merlin grinned and Arthur winced.

"Did you always call me that?"he asked.

Merlin's eyes took on what could only be described as an 'unholy glint'. "Well, I used to call you something else, but I don't think the kids would appreciate me calling you Mr. Hu..."

"LA LA LA LA LA. NOT LISTENING!" Morgana shouted, clapping her hands over her ears, and Arthur blushed deeply.

"Look," Merlin said, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Arthur's arm. It felt nice, and he leaned into the touch. "You go, finish your shower." He grinned up at the soap suds drying in Arthur's hair. "Or better yet, take a long hot bath. I'll take a look at the boxes still in storage in the morning." He pushed him down the hallway towards the bathroom. "Don't worry, it might take a few days, but I'll find them."

Arthur closed the door behind him and leaned against it. It was a good idea, but Arthur wanted it now! Oh well, he could wait a few days. Through the door, he heard Merlin asking Gwen about going to a photo shop, and heard a murmured reply, but he was too tired to unravel Merlin speak. Setting the dial of the shower up as hot as he could stand it, he got back under the spray and let his mind wander.

 

~*~

Two morning's later, before work, Merlin presented him with a handful of photos. One of them was of him and Merlin wearing suits. Merlin was grinning broadly, clutching a plate of cake. Arthur was leaning into his new husband, but his face wore a faint scowl. What had he to complain about on his wedding day? Another showed him and Merlin on a beach somewhere, a young Morgana between them, clutching their hands and swinging up in the air. Again, he wore a faint scowl. There were several more in the bundle showing he and Merlin with the children at various ages. There were also two more of him and Merlin alone. He was scowling or looking angry in all of them.

"Was I always in such a bad mood?" he asked as he flicked through them.

"You hate getting your photo taken," Merlin said. He looked slightly uneasy at the question, but Arthur ignored him. He had found that Merlin often shifted uneasily and was quite jumpy. It must be part of his personality. A quirk. Arthur had to admit, he did find it kind of cute.

"Are you happy now?" Merlin asked.

"I suppose," Arthur said, letting the photo's drop onto the coffee table. "So, I guess it's true."

"What's true?"

"That I belong... here. In this life." He looked around the house. It was looking better than when Merlin had first brought him home from that psych ward, and he _was_ starting to settle in again. But something still felt off.

"I need to go to work..." Merlin said uneasily. He stood quickly. "Can't keep Gaius waiting."

"See you later," Arthur said, also standing. He leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, obviously surprising them both. Merlin raised a hand to his cheek, eyes locked on Arthur.

"You okay?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah... gotta go."

Arthur watched him go, confused and wondering at the guilty look on his husband's face.

~*~

Merlin had invited a friend of his, an extremely attractive man named Lance, over for dinner. The entire meal had been an awkward affair, what with Arthur still not being able to cook worth a damn and Lance throwing him strange looks, and Merlin disapproving ones, all through the meal. They'd relied on Morgana and Gwen's constant bickering and on Hunith's random observations about what it would take to become a Disney Princess to fill in the silence.

Arthur himself was on edge, as he'd gotten into yet another yelling match with Morgana. They'd arrived home from school and she'd started into one of her new teachers, calling her some very unsavoury names. Arthur had scolded her for her language, Morgana had used it on him, Arthur had yelled, Morgana had yelled, Gwen had gotten in on the act, defending Morgana, Hunith had been oblivious.... It had not been a good afternoon.

He was on his guard, as he'd already been on the receiving end of their brand of retaliation several times already. They often retreated to their little club house to think of their little plots of vengeance, and Arthur was right to be worried when Morgana got that look in her eyes. The one she had there right now. He'd fallen over their tripwires, had his hands glued to plates and had an honest to god bucket of mud placed over a door he was about to walk thought. And that was only in the first two weeks!

After dinner, when the others moved into the living room, Arthur stayed behind to tidy up the kitchen. It was becoming a routine for him, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't exactly hate it. It gave him a few minutes peace after the chaos of the day, and before he started, he always made himself a cup of bad, instant coffee and drank it as he worked. It was a crappy routine, but it was his and his alone, and Arthur clung to it. It was one the one thing he had a choice over, and he enjoyed the stability.

He had just finished putting the dishes in the sink to wash when he heard it; the creak of the back door closing. He spun around and was faced with Morgana and Guinevere, sweet, innocent looks on their faces and their hands behind their backs.

"Girls..." he warned, but he went unheeded. On some silent signal, they both brought their arms forward and threw, and Arthur found himself pelted with four very full water balloons, filled from the outside tap. Every single one hit their mark and split on impact, drenching him from head to toe. He shouted his outrage, and the girls fell into helpless laughter, only moving when he took a step forward. They turned and ran into the living room, around where Merlin and Lance were deep in conversation at Merlin's drawing desk. Both men looked up confused, but started laughing when they saw the state of Arthur.

"That's it!" Arthur fumed, and stomped back into the kitchen. He picked up the hose attached to the kitchen tap and pulled it as far as it could go. He managed to get a good three feet into the living room before he turned it on. The screeches of outrage and shouts of 'MY MAKEUP!" coming from the girls were extremely satisfying. In the midst of his revenge, he lost track of the hose and accidentally soaked Lance and Merlin too. Lance picked up Hunith who was running around laughing and held him up in front of her as a shield, much to her delight. Once everyone was completely soaked, they turned their attention to him.

Arthur was no fool.

He turned and ran.

He heard Merlin's shout of 'Get him!' as he raced out the back door into the warm night. He hadn't gotten far, just to the edge of the garden, near the trees, when he was tackled from behind. He landed with a 'thump' on the grass and leaves and soon had three sets of hands on him, tickling him within an inch of his life.

He didn't have the energy to fight back; he just lay there, laughing. Hunith, who wasn't as good with the tickling, just sat on his stomach laughing. He looked up and saw Merlin and Lance watching from the back porch, and a strange warmth spread through him at the look of fondness on the other man's face. He looked at his children and saw the happiness in their eyes.

Oh.

It was starting to sink in just how much he liked having a family. They were horrendous brats, but they were his. And Merlin may be a cheeky smart ass, but he was his also. The beginning of this feeling of belonging and contentment was new to him.

He liked it.

~*~

"Morgana, Guinevere and Hunith Emerson. In here, now!"

Morgana rolled her eyes at the dramatics that their principal was displaying. From what she had seen in her first week at Ealdor Elementary and Middle School, the dark haired woman was quite fond of the dramatics. She herded her sisters inside the principal's office, resigning herself to the fact that knowing her tendency to speak her own mind, it would not be her last time in there.

Ms. Grayson sat behind an impressively large and imposing desk that was free from almost all clutter. It was neat to the point of obsessiveness, and Morgana wanted nothing more than to reach over and start moving bits and pieces of paper and pens around, just to see what colour red her face would go. She and Gwen sat on either side of Hunith, whom they could tell was nervous to the point of scared. She too, along with her sisters, was scratching her arms and her back. Morgana felt terrible; her skin was itchy and sore where she had been scratching at it and it was wearing on her patience.

"What's this I hear about you not wanting to take these tests?" Ms. Grayson finally spoke after she had left them squirming for almost a minute. Morgana barely restrained the urge to roll her eyes. _That's_ what this was all about?

"Like we told the teachers, we don't want to take them bec..."

"It's not a question of wanting to take them. It's not even a question at all. These tests are compulsory for all new transfer students. They help evaluate your potential and help up place you in the appropriate classes."

"So, based on one test, with little or no prior knowledge of us and our backgrounds, you use these old fashioned assessments to label us as smart or stupid, and force us to spend the rest of our academic lives living up, or down, to those standards? Not only is that an idiotic system, but you're limiting our creative potential..."

"Ms. Emerson, be quiet!" Grayson snapped.

"If you're not feeling well, those tests can be thrown completely off," Morgana persisted.

"And we really don't feel well, Ms. Grayson," Gwen added. Morgana beamed at the support from her sister.

"I see," Grayson said, settling back into her chair. She looked at all three of them individually. "So, you've managed to convince you're sisters to back you up in this ridiculous 'sickie' then?"

"It's true!" Gwen insisted. Hunith nodded frantically beside her, still too nervous to speak.

"Rubbish," Grayson dismissed them. "I'm not new at this, you know. I've seen it all. And I _will_ be contacting your father. Is he at home?"

"Well, Dad's in work. But our father is at home," Morgana told her. Grayson looked surprised. "You're father's re-married? Already?"

Shitshitshitshitshit. Morgana didn't know Dad had told her principal about Papa dying.

"Um... yeah. It's fairly new but they've known each other for what seems like a lifetime..." Morgana lied.

"Well, I'm calling _both_ of them then," Grayson crowed. "You three, detention room. Last door on the left. I'll be there in five minutes, and if you three are not there...."

Morgana stormed out, followed by her sisters. God, Arthur was going to yell!

~*~

Arthur was almost up to his elbows in soap suds, scrubbing vigorously at the burned remains of last night's bolognaise (Only half burned this time. He was getting better at this cooking lark) when the phone rang. He gratefully pulled his hands out and dried them off as he reached out to snag the phone from the wall.

"Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Mr. Emerson please?" The voice on the other end was female, smooth and polite, but Arthur detected more than a hint of condescension in her tone.

"I'm Arthur Emerson. Can I help you?" he answered warily. The woman on the other end of the line muttered something disapproving sounding but before Arthur could ask her to repeat it, she was speaking again.

"My name is Helen Grayson. I'm the principal of Ealdor Elementary and Middle School. I need to you to come in and collect Morgana, Guinevere and Hunith. They are _all_ in detention for disobeying their teacher and refusing to complete their school work. I need to discuss their behaviour with one of their parents."

Arthur sighed deeply and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. It was their _second week_ in the school! Promising to be there as soon as possible, he grabbed the car keys and headed out. All the way to the school, he got more and more irritated. It was their _new_ school. They didn't need to start making trouble so soon. Half their stuff was still in boxes, for crying out loud.

As he signed in at the reception to the school, it occurred to Arthur that he had never actually been inside the school, or met any of his children's teachers. He knew next to nothing about it, except where it was located. Had he and Merlin scoped the place out first before picking this one? Is this the only one in the district or are there better schools nearby? Had he met anyone from here before? Had he asked rigorous questions? All these questions and more bounced around his head as he followed the directions of the receptionist and passed several brightly painted classrooms with posters and artwork on the walls. When he finally came to the right classroom, he took a deep breath and prepared to do battle with his kids.

An attractive, dark haired woman was sitting at the desk in front of the class. She was grading papers and alternating between glaring at the girls sitting in front of her and loftily ignoring them. His girls were the only children in the room, probably the only ones in detention. They made a united front, sitting next to each other in the middle of the room. Morgana was staring at the teacher. No, _glaring_ at her would be more accurate. She rubbed her hands up and down under the sleeves of her purple top as if she was itchy, all the while never taking her eyes off the woman in front of her. Hunith sat between her and Gwen, bracketed and protected by her sisters. Her head was resting on her arms, and she was squirming in her seat. Gwen sat on the far left of the trio. One hand rested on Hunith's back, rubbing soothingly and the other played with her own hair nervously. She also seemed uncomfortable in her own skin today.

He knocked lightly on the doorframe, breaking the scene of tension before him. Morgana looked his way and groaned. Hunith peeped up at him from the cradle of his arms before settling back down again. Only Gwen had a brief smile for him as he walked into the room.

"I'm Arthur Emerson," he told the teacher. She rose and shook his hand.

"I'm Helen Grayson. We spoke on the phone," she told him, and Arthur was not surprised to hear her tone of condescension come across even more in person. Despite the fact that he was taller than her, she almost made him feel small.

Almost.

Arthur may not have his memories, but he _knew_ that he was not the kind of man to be easily intimidated.

"I came as soon as I could," he told her. "What seems to be the problem?" He glared at the girls, and Morgana glared right back at him. It was faintly unnerving.

"To put it bluntly, your children are the problem," she said. "They severely lack discipline."

"Believe me, it's a problem I'm aware of at home. What did they do this time?"

"They _refused_ to take Schwartzman-Heinliken tests!"

"I'm sorry, but what are the Schwartzman-Heinliken tests?"

"Placement tests. We require all new students to take them. We find them quite valuable in measuring student potential and creativity."

"Did they say why refused to take them?"

"Firstly, your eldest gave a speech about human rights and 'limiting their creative potential.' _Then_ they decided to play sick! And not very convincingly," she added, almost taunting the children. "Hunith, sit still," she ordered, even as she spoke to Arthur.

"But I'm itchy!" Hunith practically wailed from her seat.

"As you can see," Ms. Grayson said, practically ignoring the little girl's outburst, "she even roped her sisters into playing sick with her. They've been here almost two weeks, and we've tried to be lenient with them, but they simply cannot do as they please in this school. Well, it's not very surprising given that your husband himself seems incredibly irresponsible. I doubt they have many boundaries at home. But here? There are rules to follow and..."

"Ms. Grayson?" A pretty young blond woman knocked on the doorframe, pile of papers in hand.

"Ah, the test results," the principal said. "Excuse me for a moment."

As she spoke to the newcomer, Arthur stalked over to the girls.

"It's you're second week here. You'd think..." he trailed off as he came closer and saw the state of his girls. Vivid red rashes were dotted over their face and arms. Morgana glared at him as she scratched and Gwen alternated between comforting her younger sister and rubbing at her neck. He crouched down level to Hunith, and gently lifted her head from the pillow of her arms. He winced in sympathy, and patted her hair. She had several large patches of the rash, and her eyes were filled with tears.

Angered, he stood and turned to the principal.

"Ms. Grayson. Would you come over here for a moment?"

She looked faintly irritated at the interruption, but did approach them.

"Has it escaped your notice," Arthur asked, his voice shaking with anger, and his voice level rising, "that these children are covered head to toe in poison-oak?"

Ms. Grayson looked as if he had slapped her. She looked at each one of them, and her face blanched slightly.

"Well... I mean... Yes... but..."

"But nothing!" Arthur interrupted. "My children are clearly in need of medical attention. And you can stand there and smugly lecture me on parenting and tests which exist merely to pigeon hole children and limit their potential, which is something that could not _possibly_ be measured, especially on some out-dated tests probably from the sixties." As he spoke, the principal took a wary step back. As _if_ he would hurt her. "Now, these girls may be unruly and bratty, but they're mine. And my husband may seem irresponsible but he provides well for his children. And, like me, he thinks that the girls are bright, and funny, and sensitive and I am certain that they will thrive here in this school. I have no doubts whatsoever about their intelligence. I do however, have serious doubts about _yours_!"

By the time he was finished, Ms. Grayson was sitting back on her chair behind her desk, face burning red with embarrassment, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to speak that never worked. Morgana and Gwen were grinning at him, and even Hunith managed a watery smile. Arthur reached around the desk and picked the seven year old up in his arms. She was mostly too old for carrying, but at the moment felt so miserable that she snuggled down into his arms.

"Get in the car. We're going to the doctor," he told them gently. The poor kids. He felt itchy just looking at them. They grabbed their backpacks and messenger bags and as they headed out the door, he couldn't help but call back "Give my regards to Schwartzman-Heinliken."

~*~

"Gwen, stop scratching," Arthur said as he dabbed more camomile lotion onto Morgana's neck. She was dabbing her own arms with the lotion, and squirming on her bed. The girls and Arthur were up in the girls' loft room and Morgana, Gwen and Hunith were coating themselves liberally with camomile lotion on the doctor's recommendation. Getting an appointment had been tough, especially as the kids hadn't been registered yet with any G.P. but Arthur had put his foot down and demanded to see the doctor. According to Morgana, he was 'one scary bastard' when it came down to it. He'd reprimanded her for her language, of course, but secretly he'd been pleased at her approval.

"But it's itchy!" Gwen protested. Arthur gently pulled her hands away from her arms and dabbed some more lotion onto some cotton balls. He smoothed it on the patches of itchy skin and Gwen smiled up at him.

"Don't scratch," he repeated softly. "The itch will fade, but the scratches will annoy you for a lot longer."

"Thanks Dad," she whispered, and his heart squeezed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hunith slather it liberally over her face and moved quickly towards where she was sitting cross-legged on her bed.

"Wait baby, don't put it near your eyes," he told her, sitting next to her and dabbing some of the excess off her face with clean cotton balls. He picked up the lotion bottle and held it out in front of them. "See?" he said, point to the tiny script. "_Don't get near or into eyes._ Now, you read on."

To Arthur's surprise, Hunith grabbed the bottle out of his hand and threw it across the room before scrambling beneath the covers of her bed.

"What's this all about?" Arthur asked the older two, confused by the extreme reaction.

"She's embarrassed because she can't read," Gwen said quietly so as not to make Hunith feel worse.

"Well, she's a small child," Arthur reasoned. "It's not surprising she can't read very well."

"She can't read very well for a small child either," Gwen replied.

"The teacher makes fun of her," Morgana piped up from her position on her own bed. "She tries so hard and she's really smart when you ask her to talk about stuff."

"It's just hard for her when it's written down on the page in front of her."

"Really?" That was interesting, and something they needed to look in to. He heard Merlin moving around downstairs and grabbed up the piles of cotton buds that were scattered about the room. "Get some sleep," he told the girls. "We'll talk more in the morning." He dropped the rubbish into the bin on his was out and closed the door gently behind him. "Merlin!" he called as he came down the stairs. Merlin was walking around the living room, muttering to himself. He had his tool belt in one hand and was muttering to himself about keys. Arthur stopped at the end of the stairs.

"You're not leaving, are you?" he asked incredulously. "We need to talk."

"I have to," Merlin told him.

"But your children are sick! They need you here."

"You think I want to go? I want to stay here with them, but I just got a call from Gaius and there was a break in at one of his best client's house. She's an old woman and pretty scared. He needs me to block up a window immediately."

"Tell him no," Arthur demanded. "You're needed here."

"And we need the money," Merlin snapped back. "Look, the girls have you here. They're being well looked after. They don't need me."

"Of course they do. You're their father."

"As much as it kills me to see them like this, there's nothing I can do. I can't just wave my hand and magically make them better. And I have to go. We need the money. Some asshole screwed me out of several thousand dollars a few weeks ago and I'm still playing catch up."

"I see. You care more about money than our daughters. I understand," Arthur said blankly before turning and walking into the kitchen.

"Hey!" Merlin stormed angrily in behind him. "Don't you ever say that to me again. Nothing in the world is more important to me than the welfare of the girls. That's _why_ I'm doing this, so this house isn't repossessed when I can't pay the mortgage. And I _really_ don't appreciate the accusation that I don't care for my kids. Me and Wi... you decided long ago when we started this family that we were going to love our kids but not coddle them. We'd teach them independence. They don't need the two of us dancing attendance on them."

"They need to know that we're here for them. They're not well. And that's not the only reason we need to talk. Are you aware that Hunith can't read properly? And that her teacher mocks her for it?"

That stopped Merlin cold. He swallowed heavily. "I didn't know," he admitted. "I don't get much of a chance to read to her."

"That's because you're always working!" Arthur shouted, patience fraying.

"One of us has to. I wish I could stay home all day every day but I can't. And now I have to go do my job again."

"Fine then, go!" Arthur fumed. "Leave again just when you're needed."

"Damnit Arthur, grow up. It's life. Yes, it sucks but I have to do it. And now I'm late," Merlin shouted, looking at his watch. "Thank you, very much."

Arthur watched as he stormed his way through the house, grabbing his belt and tools before slamming the door on his way out. He slumped against the kitchen counter and scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. Damnit, he really hadn't wanted a fight like that. It was their first proper fight since Arthur had lost his memory, and he was surprised at just how heavy his heart felt in the aftermath.

~*~

Their fight stayed with Merlin the entire time he was out on the call. He had the window boarded up pretty quickly, and had taken his measurements to start building a new one. The house owner was an elderly woman who was pretty shaken up, and Merlin couldn't in good conscience just leave her with the mess. He helped her tidy up a bit, cleaning up the broken glass and doing another thorough sweep of the house for her before making her a cup of tea and heading on his way. The whole time he was making causal small talk about his kids and Mrs. Morton's son who lived in Carolina, Arthur's accusing words echoed in his head.

As much as it pained Merlin to admit, there was a teeny, tiny element of truth in it. Merlin did have a tendency to bury himself in his work, especially in the first few months after Will's death. And for Arthur to be the one to point it out to him rankled. Arthur was doing a wonderful job with the girls, and Merlin actually envied their closeness after so short a time. It galled him that he hadn't noticed Hunith's problems with reading before Arthur pointed it out, but now that they knew, he'd get it sorted out. Extra lessons or maybe getting her tested for dyslexia. Hunith was such a smart kid. She deserved every chance he got.

He pulled into the driveway and sat staring at the house for a minute. Since he'd cooled down, he'd seen Arthur's side of the argument. He deserved an apology, but so did Merlin. Nothing did matter to him more than the girls, especially since Will's death. There just weren't enough hours in the day, and he needed to know that they were warm, safe and well fed. He hopped out of the car and silently made his way into the house. All was silent and dark, and Merlin could barely make out the lump of Arthur's body on the couch.

He made his way quietly over, but Arthur heard his approach and shifted deeper into the pillows. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and buried his face completely in the pillows. Merlin sat down on the couch next to his legs, and Arthur shifted away from him.

"Arthur, come on. I know you're awake."

"Go away," was the muffled reply from the general vicinity of the pillow.

"Look, I just wanted to talk to you about the fight. And while I'm not admitting it was all my fault, I... come on Arthur. Look at me. I'm trying to apologise to you here. I can't do it like this."

"No."

"Well why not?"

"Cos I have poison oak too," Arthur admitted, finally turning to look at Merlin. He was dressed in his boxer shorts and a t-shirt, and his arms and neck were coated with liberal patches of white camomile lotion. He looked so irritated and miserable, and Merlin smiled at the rumpled, grumpy look on his face. That should not have been so adorable.

"Come on," he said, standing and tugging the thin sheets off Arthur's body. He grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up. "Don't make me carry you."

"Oh god, I don't want to go in the water barrel again," Arthur whined, digging in his heels.

"Don't be ridiculous," Merlin scoffed. As if he would do that to a sick man. "I'm putting you to bed." He led him to the bedroom and onto the soft, comfortable bed. "I'll take the couch for the night," he told the blond as the other man settled down beneath the sheets with a happy sigh. Merlin's heart tugged again at the sight.

"Thank you," Arthur said gratefully. "You can be quite nice you know. When you're not being an idiot."

"Thanks," Merlin replied dryly, turning to go.

"Wait!" Arthur hand shot out to grab hold of Merlin's wrist. He guided him to sit down next to him, and Merlin obliged, settling himself near the headboard. "Tell me something about my past," he asked, and Merlin opened his mouth to recite one of the stories he had made up in his head to tell him over the past few weeks. "Something good, please," Arthur asked, and for a moment he sounded so fragile and lost that guilt started creeping in. Merlin settled himself nearer to where Arthur was huddled under the bed-clothes, blinking up at him with trusting eyes, and the guilt intensified.

"Well..." he stalled, wracking his brains before deciding to wing it. "There was that time that you were working in McDonald's, in that tiny place just outside of Chicago. You were working the counter and all of a sudden, some kid started choking on a chicken nugget. The whole place started panicking, myself included. And I mean _panicked_. But you... you just vaulted over the counter, grabbed the kid and did that Heimlich manoeuvre thing where you press against their stomach?"Arthur nodded at Merlin's questioning tone, so Merlin carried on. "Well, after a few tries, the kid started coughing, out came the nugget and he started breathing again." Arthur smiled at the story, so Merlin continued. "They made you employee of the month for that. They even took our picture, put it behind the cash register for the whole time. And damn, I was just so proud of you Arthur."

Arthur smiled the widest at the last compliment and reached out and squeezed Merlin's hand.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Think nothing of it," Merlin whispered back as Arthur settled down to sleep. He couldn't stop himself leaning down and kissing him lightly on the forehead. "Get some rest," he advised. "We can talk more about Hunith in the morning. We can sort this out."

"Goodnight Merlin."

"Goodnight Arthur."

Merlin had never felt so guilty in his entire life.

~*~

 

It was a gloriously sunny day a week or two later when Merlin invited Lance over for a barbeque in the back yard and to keep brainstorming for ideas to make their business plan stand apart from others. Morgana, Gwen and Hunith all had friends over to enjoy the day too, and they were running in and out of the house, screaming at an ear-drum piercing level. Merlin and Lance had set up shop on one of the picnic tables, covering it with papers, photos and sketches. They were both deep in thought, so Merlin jumped visibly when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

Arthur, who up until this point had been manning the barbeque, rested both his hands on Merlin's shoulders and leaned down until his chin brushed Merlin's neck.

"Look," he whispered, indicating down to the back of the yard to where his eldest child was talking to one of her male friends. Her arm was linked though his, and they were standing entirely too close to each other for Merlin's liking. The look of adoration on his face as he looked down at her was obvious to all, and Morgana was lapping up the attention.

"I think Morgana's got herself a boyfriend," Arthur observed, smiling. Merlin could feel his warm breath on his cheek and shivered before turning his attention back to the teenage boy who had his hands _all over his daughter_.

"I'll kill him," he said, making to stand but Arthur pushed him back down.

"Relax," he told him, kneading Merlin's shoulder's for a moment. "No bloodshed before we eat." He turned back to the barbeque. "We can threaten him afterwards," he added after a moment. Merlin laughed loudly and fondly and when he turned back to Lance, his friend was giving him a strange look.

"What?" he asked.

"I said nothing," Lance objected, raising his hands in self defence.

"What are you guys working on anyway," Arthur asked, wandering back over to them.

"We're going through the plans for the shop," Lance said absently.

"What shop?" At this point, Arthur shoved Merlin down the bench a bit and was seating himself at the table. He crowded against Merlin and Merlin caught the scent of his mildly spicy soap, causing him to lose his focus for a second.

"You didn't tell him?" Lance asked, surprised.

"I um... forgot he didn't know," Merlin said after a moment. Damnit, Arthur's being so close was really distracting.

"We plan to open a shop," Lance explained. Arthur listened, a look of interest on his face as Lance explained about their plans to become furniture designers, making the pieces on site and selling them in a showroom attached to their work area. He explained how it had been a plan of theirs for years, which was the truth, and that it had been put to one side in recent years due to _unfortunate circumstances_. Thankfully, he remembered who he was talking to, and didn't go into much detail of those 'circumstances'.

"So basically, we have the supplies, we have the warehouse and the showroom picked out, and we have the contracts ready to sign. We picked a place in _Camolin_. It's a town about half an hour away. It's bigger than Ealdor, so it's got more foot traffic and more people around to shop. It's a nice place. We just need to convince the bank to give us the money for it all," he concluded.

"We're trying to come up with some idea to make our idea stand out in a good way. Some kind of hook to draw people in."

"What are you calling it?" Arthur asked, fingers tracing over one of Merlin's designs for a chair that were included with the plans and had snagged Arthur's attention. "The shop, I mean."

"That's one of the things we need to decide," Merlin told him, leaning over to show Arthur the specs for the place they hope to secure for the showroom, and conveniently bathing himself in Arthur's delicious scent again. He saw Lance shoot him a knowing look, but he ignored it.

"We're thinking of something to do with magic, but everything we came up with just sounded lame," Lance explained.

"Why magic?" Arthur asked.

"Cos of my name," Merlin added in a 'duh' tone. "You know, Merlin the Magician from the legends."

"You mean the Arthur and Merlin we always used to get teased for," Arthur smiled fondly, and Merlin's heart thudded in his chest.

"The very ones," Merlin said, unable to tear his eyes from Arthur. The blond seemed to be having the same problem as he was but obviously had more willpower than Merlin, because after a long moment, he reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Merlin."

"How about you guys go straight to the legend?" Arthur asked after a moment.

"What, you mean call it King Arthur Designs or something," Lance laughed. "Kind of narcissistic there Arthur, don't you think?" Arthur laughed and threw a pencil at him.

"No, asshole. I was thinking more along the lines of 'Camelot Designs', _Lancelot_." He stressed the last word meaningfully in his direction. Lance laughed, and so did Merlin, but trailed off as he warmed to the idea.

"Wait, this could be good," he enthused. "Maybe not _Camelot Designs exactly_, but you're on the right line. We need something that flows a bit better, more readily off the tongue."

"What was the name of that place where they took King Arthur's body after he died?" Lance asked. "I have a terrible memory for stuff I learned in school, especially when I don't use it any more. And they're not really my kind of movies so I don't watch them."

"Avalon," Arthur replied abruptly and with certainty, then blinked, surprised at himself. "Huh," he said. "Guess I'm starting to remember things after all. Pity it's a bunch of random crap about a stupid fairytale and not my own name."

Merlin rubbed a hand across his shoulders in comfort.

"Well, it's helping us now," he said gently, that nagging feeling of guilt making itself known again.

"It's a good name, _Avalon Designs_," Lance said to distract them both. "Rolls off the tongue. Plus, it's first in the alphabet."

"That might come in handy when we're getting it put in the phone book," Merlin agreed.

"You could design some sort of logo to go with it," Arthur said, breaking from his melancholy. "A coat of arms perhaps?"

"That's a brilliant idea," Merlin grinned. "Do you think you could draw up something for us?"

"Me?" Arthur blanched. "But I'm not a designer. I don't..."

"Come on, I can see your fingers itching for the pencil," Merlin cajoled. "You probably know more about what would suit the name than us, to be honest. Lance already admitted he doesn't know much about it, and I have always refused to look into it just cos I got teased so much when I was younger. It's the principle of the thing."

"If you're sure..." Arthur was already pulling a clean sheaf of paper in front of him.

"I'm sure," Merlin grinned. "You stay here and work on this. I'll go man the grill."

"I'll go call the hospital and tell them to prepare the stomach pumps then," Lance said dryly getting up to grab another soda from the kitchen.

"Hey!"

~*~

Three days later, Arthur presented Lance and Merlin with a couple of different sketches of logo designs. He's worked hard on it, continuing to doodle during the meal which, despite Lance's dire predictions, wasn't that bad. A little on the burnt side maybe, but hell... that's what barbequing was all about. He'd spent some his free time during the day working on them too, sitting at the dining room table with marker pens and pencils spread around him like Hunith when she got started on one of her art kicks. She'd even stayed with him the night before, quietly colouring in pictures of Disney Princesses (of course) beside him as he finished up. He had been concentrating on getting the tree _just_ right when he felt Hunith tug on his sleeve.

"Yes honey?"

"Are you going to leave?" Hunith asked, and the entire house went silent. He looked around at the nervous faces of the girls before answering.

"What makes you say that?"

"Sometimes Dad's leave," she said matter of factly.

"Well I won't," Arthur promised. Hunith beamed and crawled up into his lap. He hugged her close as she reached into her pocket and pulled a mess of coloured beads out of her pocket.

"Here!" she said proudly, dropping the bracelet into his palm. He put it on, his heart warmed beyond all reason.

"Thank you sweetheart," he said, emotion choking him. "I'll never take it off."

Hunith stayed there, colouring with him and keeping him company and warming his heart.

The next day after work, he called Merlin and asked him to come home for lunch and to bring Lance with him as he had finished.

Arthur liked Lance. He was witty, clever and humble, though he kept scrutinising Arthur with several long looks. It was unnerving at times, as if he were trying to figure Arthur out. He'd assumed they'd known each other very well, since Lance had known Merlin for over a decade and he'd been with Merlin since high school, but every now and then Lance looked surprised to see him. It was disconcerting.

Now they were both leaning over the sketches he had drawn up, muttering amongst themselves. Arthur was surprisingly nervous about the whole situation and he worried the beads on his wrist. The thought of disappointing Merlin saddened him more than it should have. He needn't have worried. After several long minutes, Merlin turned and grinned his brightest grin, the one that lit up his eyes so they seemed almost luminous. They never failed to make Arthur smile in return. He was beginning to remember why he fell for him in the first place.

"These are great Arthur!" he enthused. "Absolutely brilliant. I love how you incorporated the swirls of magic around the carpenter tools in this one, and put a tree in the background in this one."

"I really like the Excalibur one," Lance said, tracing the design with his fingers. The golden strands that represented magic coiled around the gleaming sword. "If we put the tree with the long roots in the background of it..."

"It would be perfect. The elements of the legend combined. I think we should go with it," Merlin agreed. Arthur was stunned. They actually liked what he had done.

"Thank you Arthur," Merlin said, giving him a brief hug, which Arthur returned. They pulled back and smiled at each other. Their eyes met and locked and they only broke apart when Lance coughed politely. Merlin blushed, and pulled away.

Arthur already missed his warmth.

~*~

"Relax," Arthur urged him. Merlin was a nervous ball of energy, bouncing around the house, tie hanging untied around his neck. "You'll be great. Both of you." He nodded towards Lance. The other man was shifting nervously from foot to foot at the front door. He was clutching the all important business plans in a white-knuckled death grip. He settled his hands on Merlin's shoulders. "Breathe."

His hands automatically raised and before any of them knew it, he had done a perfect half-Windsor knot in Merlin's tie.

"Huh," he said, looking down. "Strange that muscle memory is kicking in now."

"Yeah, guess so," said Merlin, shifting nervously. Arthur brushed his hands along Merlin's suit jacket, dusting off imaginary lint. He straightened the shoulders of the suit, and his hand ended up brushing lightly across Merlin's cheek. Merlin unconsciously leaned into the touch.

"Now go. You don't want to be late. Bank managers frown on that sort of thing. And don't worry if you don't get it. It's not the end of the world. We've been through worse before," he told them. "I think..." he said after a moment. He wasn't sure, actually, if they had, but it seemed to buoy Merlin. He grinned, and he and Lance headed out.

Arthur hoped he helped Merlin's confidence. Anything to stop him stammering and blushing like a damned virgin in front of the bankers. He had to show that he is in fact quite competent. Though he never shows it.

~*~

"What was that all about?" Lance demanded Merlin as they settled in Lance's car.

"All what about?" Merlin asked distractedly, clicking his seatbelt in.

"I'm talking about the face touching, and the _leaning_," Lance said, starting the car. "I thought it was all about the payback."

"It is," Merlin insisted, not meeting Lance's eyes.

"Whatever man, I just don't want to see anything bad to happen."

"It's fine. I have no feelings for him at all. He's just living in the house, working his debt off and that's it. I'll tell him once he's done."

Lance didn't believe a word of it. Merlin wasn't cold hearted enough to feel nothing for someone who was living in his home, either love or hate. But now was not the time to distract Merlin. They had to be calm and collected, not flaily and emo as Merlin could get, given half the chance.

"If you say so," he said sceptically, pulling into traffic. "So, you ready to do this?"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up. But we can do this. We're a solid investment."

"'Atta boy. Let's go wow them."

~*~

Arthur wandered around the house, distractedly tidying and picking things up off the floor. Merlin should have been back by now. The meeting was four hours ago. He should have called. Arthur _really_ hoped he wasn't out drowning is sorrows, because where drunk Merlin was adorable and funny, complete with flailing limbs and girlish giggles, hung-over Merlin was grouchy, grumpy and no fun at all.

Above all, Lance and Merlin were _good_. More than good. Their furniture was amazing, sturdy, solid and beautiful. And they were so dedicated. Lance had even done a business course to help them run it.

The girls had eaten and their homework was finished. They were lounging in front of the TV, Hunith falling asleep on Gwen's shoulder. But they all refused to go to bed until Merlin got home, and for once, Arthur didn't argue with them. He wandered outside, hefting himself up onto the porch railing, looking up at the night sky. It really was beautiful here. No wonder they chose this particular house. He was in his own world so he didn't hear the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path. He started when he felt something hit his back and land just behind him. It was a paper aeroplane. He turned to find Merlin standing a few feet away, his face blank.

Arthur's heart sank.

"Go ahead. Ask me," Merlin said unenthusiastically.

"Did you get the money?" he asked, dreading the answer.

A sudden grin split Merlin's face.

"We got the money," he beamed.

Arthur whooped with joy and hopped down from the railing. Merlin was suddenly in his arms, and they were hugging and kissing. Arthur _may_ have swung the slighter man around. Just a little bit. They settled down after a moment, staying in each other's embrace.

"You did it," Arthur whispered in his ear. He clung to Merlin's lean shoulders.

"_We_ did it," Merlin corrected, holding Arthur close. Slowly, he pulled back and looked into Merlin's eyes. He kissed him lightly on the lips, and Merlin's lips clung to his own for an extra second as he pulled back.

"Come on," Arthur said, breaking the moment. "Let's go tell the girls."

~*~

"Merlin. Merlin? MERLIN!"

"What?" Merlin blinked at the fingers snapping in front of his eyes. He'd just been thinking. Last night, when he got home, Arthur was curled up on the couch with Hunith snuggled into his side, listening patiently as she read through _The Gruffalo_. He smiled at the memory of Arthur's warm praise and Hunith's delighted laugh when she finished the description of the Gruffalo.

 

_"Well done honey."_

"Ewwww. A poisonous wart on the end of his nose!

"You mean like the one you've got there."

"That's a freckle Daddy!"

 

"Merlin!"

"Sorry Lance," Merlin apologised.

"Where are you today, man? We need to sort out these figures to find out how much we have for the grand opening."

"I'm just thinking."

"About Will?" Lance asked understandingly.

"No, what made you say that?" Merlin was surprised. He and Lance didn't talk about Will much. Merlin knew Lance also missed Will, but he also knew that Merlin preferred to grieve in peace.

"You've got that dreamy smile," Lance told him. "The one where you're remembering something that I don't want to ask about for the sake of my sanity."

Merlin blushed. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed. "You can tell I'm thinking about men from the smile on my face?"

"It's a gift," Lance said nonchalantly. "If you weren't thinking of Will, who were you thinking of?" he asked curiously. He set aside the papers he was looking at and gave Merlin his full attention. God, he was such a girl when it came to gossip. If Merlin didn't know he was one of the biggest manwhores around and had unfortunately walked in on more than one of his trysts over the years, he would be _positive_ Lance was gay. Unfortunately, Merlin knew from experience that Lance was like a pit-bull when it came to finding out Merlin's secrets, so he didn't even fight it.

"I was thinking of Arthur," he admitted, not meeting Lance's eye.

"Oh _Merlin_..."

"Don't, okay? I really don't need an 'I told you so'. I know. You told me it was a bad idea to begin with, and I didn't listen. And now, the guilt is setting in. It's just... he's getting to love the girls so much. And he's tried so hard. It would be cruel to let him continue. And I... I just think the sooner I tell him, the better we'll all be."

"Oh my God, you _like_ him," Lance said in wonder. Merlin blushed and looked away. "I thought you hated him!"

"I did," Merlin admitted. "And he _is_ still a giant prat. But, I... he... I can't explain it. And I have to tell him. It's not fair on him."

"Are you sure you're ready for that fallout?" Lance asked. "He's going to be pissed. He could quite possibly leave immediately."

"I have to tell him, Lance. It'll be worse if I don't." He gathered up his papers and got ready to go home. He had to do it now, before he changed his mind.

"Good luck," Lance told him solemnly. Merlin nodded his thanks and left their small office.

~*~

Merlin's palms were sweating as soon as he turned into the driveway. For a few long moments, he sat in the car, just staring at the house. Arthur would be inside, probably reading again with Hunith. Since her dyslexia had been confirmed, he had taken it upon himself to do everything in how power to help her. Every night, he read her one of the books he had gotten from the local library. From what Merlin could see, both he and Hunith enjoyed the time together. Hunith was really taking to him, and Merlin felt another stab of guilt. When he eventually left, it would be terrible on her.

It would be terrible on them all. Arthur had slotted into their lives like the missing link, and Merlin lo...

No. He wouldn't think of that now. He would deal when he left. After Merlin told him the truth.

Which he was going to do.

Any minute now.

Smacking himself on the back of the head, he forced himself to open the car and get out. The house was warm and inviting when Merlin entered, and sure enough, Hunith was curled up on the couch with the blond. Gwen and Morgana were actually doing their homework for once, sitting at the scrubbed down kitchen table.

"You're just in time," Arthur smiled when he saw Merlin at the door. "The Gruffalo's Child is about to meet the Big Bad Mouse."

"That's great," Merlin smiled weakly. "Um girls, could you give me a minute with Arthur?" he asked his daughters. They exchanged confused looks, but did leave their homework and head upstairs. Hunith hugged Arthur before taking her book and heading after her sisters. Arthur stood, a concerned look on his face at Merlin's serious tone.

"Arthur, sit down a minute," Merlin said, coming to sit next to him. "There's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Arthur asked. "Come on, you're freaking me out here. You're never his serious."

"Arthur... I... That is..." Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes, those eyes that were so trusting. Merlin hated himself but he could feel his resolve waver. He wasn't ready to lose that trust jut yet, or not to see that crooked smile every day, or hear his ridiculous laugh.

"Arthur, I'm so sorry. I forgot your birthday," he told him, wincing himself internally. He heard the girls laughing with happiness in their room, and knew they had been listening in. Arthur was sitting there in stunned silence.

"It's my birthday?" he asked eventually.

"Yes it is. And I'm sorry I forgot. Come on, get changed. We're going out."

'You utter wimp Emerson' he berated himself as he and Arthur got changed into clean jeans and shirts. But when he saw the delighted smile on Arthur's face, he couldn't bring himself to care that much.

 

~*~

Arthur was having more fun than he'd had in... well, ever really. He was sure he and Merlin had gone out before, probably a lot in the past before they'd adopted the girls. But he didn't remember them. All he knew he was enchanted by Merlin's bright, wide smile, his infectious laugh, and when he stretched and his shirt rode up to reveal a patch of pale skin, Arthur felt his body tighten in response. When he'd first seen Merlin, he had scoffed at the idea of being married to him. But as time went on, he craved seeing his smiles more and more. Just hearing his voice made his stomach jump in anticipation, and now, sitting here with him, he understood.

There was something about Merlin. He couldn't put his finger on it, but whatever it was, it made him _shine_. And Arthur wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in that light and warmth.

Merlin settled back in the booth, a half-empty bottle of beer dangling in his hand as he listened to the band. Arthur had seen this bar several times in passing, but had never been in. But, after a good meal of burgers, fries and chicken wings, chased by beer and enjoyed with good company, he knew he would be back. Merlin had lost any reserve he still had and had relaxed completely, and the banter, conversation and jokes had flowed thick and fast between them as they sat there, enjoying each other's company. The remains of their meal were spread out on the table between them, and Arthur absentmindedly sucked some of the barbeque sauce from the chicken wings off his thumb. Merlin turned his head just in time to see Arthur do this, and heard the soft 'pop' when he pulled out his thumb. Arthur saw his eyes dilate and heard his audible gulp. He grinned to himself.

The band was pretty good, playing covers of everything from rock songs to slow ballads. The tiny dance floor of the bar was crowded with couples dancing. So far, no one had even looked at them twice since they'd arrived, so Arthur felt confident when he stood and held his hand out to Merlin. His husband gulped again audibly, before putting his warm, calloused hand in Arthurs. Arthur led him to the dance floor as a fast paced song Arthur was sure he had heard before started. Merlin grinned and immediately started leaping about in a fashion that suggested he was having some type of seizure.

Laughing, Arthur grabbed Merlin's hips and pulled him close. Merlin stumbled slightly into his arms, and for a few moments, he stood completely still before he started moving against Arthur. When properly motivated (i.e. he had a hand around his waist) Merlin was apparently a good dancer. His body moved against Arthur in a fast teasing rhythm, countering Arthur's own movements. Their breathing sped up and sweat clung to their bodies, sticking their shirts to their skin.

Only part of this was due to the speed at which they were dancing.

Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin, and felt hips brush against his own. His jeans suddenly felt too small for him when he felt the responding arousal in Merlin. He slowed, looking into Merlin's eyes, and his breath caught. For the first time, he saw the love in Merlin's eyes. Maybe he was once again becoming the man that he loved. Arthur found he desperately wanted to remember that man he once was, if only to see the happiness in Merlin's face more often.

"Let's go out and get some air," Merlin shouted in his ear over the music, and Arthur nodded, following as Merlin grabbed his hand and led him to the door. On the way out, Arthur snagged the bottle of cheap champagne and a couple of glasses they had bought to celebrate. They stepped out into the cool night air, enjoying the breeze that flowed in over the sea. Merlin popped the cork of the champagne, laughing as he poured it into two glasses. The champagne was cheap, the glasses plastic, and some part of Arthur knew he should hate every second of this, but the company more than made up for it.

Merlin stood close to Arthur, their arms brushing as they leaned against the railing of the deck to look out over the sea. Every time it did, Arthur's heart gave a leap until eventually he stood, pulling Merlin into his arms. The slow love song the band had started a few moments before filtered out onto the patio deck as he slowly swayed side to side, Merlin turning into his embrace. Though Merlin was taller, Arthur was broader, and Merlin easily fit into his arms, winding his own around Arthur's waist. They stayed there, drinks forgotten, breathing in each other's scents and just being. A shift of Merlin's hips brought Arthur half hard with a gasp, echoing Merlin's own moan of arousal.

Merlin brought his head up from where he had tucked it under Arthur's chin, and smiled. Arthur leaned forward, making the first move that for some reason, Merlin seemed unwilling to make. Perhaps he thought he was pressuring him, but in truth, Arthur wanted this more than he could say. Their lips met, softly and sweetly, almost chastely at first. Arthur could taste the beer and champagne on Merlin's lips as he licked his way gently into his mouth. Their bodies stilled their dancing as Merlin wove a hand into Arthur's hair, holding him in place as the kiss got hot and a little dirty. Arthur pulled Merlin's hips into contact with his with force this time, and swallowed Merlin's whimper.

Reluctantly, Arthur pulled back.

"As much as I want to continue this," he said in a low, rough voice, avoiding Merlin's lips which were chasing his own, "I do _not_ want to do this here. Let's go home, where we can give it our proper attention."

 

~*~

The drive home was mostly silent, neither of them wanting to break the spell that seemed to be woven between them. Merlin drove, as he had been nursing one bottle of beer all night, and Arthur was glad of this, as it meant that he could concentrate fully on the man beside him. He was intriguing. It was as if he were hiding a huge part of himself, and revealing it to Arthur bit by bit. Arthur was more and more intrigued by him, and wanted nothing more than to pull apart the layers and see the real Merlin.

More than anything, he wanted to peel from his body the blue shirt that Merlin wore. It did amazing things for his eyes, being almost the exact same shade and hue, and its tightness had been making Arthur's mouth dry all night. As soon as they pulled into the drive, he got out and waited impatiently for Merlin to lock the car. Once they checked that the girls were a) still alive and b) very much asleep, he pulled Merlin into their bedroom and backed him up against the closing door. It closed with a loud 'snap', but neither of them cared as Arthur pressed his full length against Merlin and kissed him again.

Merlin grabbed fistfuls of his black shirt before getting with the programme and starting to unbutton it. Arthur already had Merlin's shirt half off him. He looked skinny when dressed, but he was surprisingly muscled underneath his clothes. Arthur ran his hands over the lightly haired skin on Merlin's chest, and his husband arched into his touch. They stumbled towards the bed, nearly falling twice but unwilling to let go of each other long enough to make it safely. They landed on the bed with a thump and a bounce, and Merlin immediately slid his leg across Arthur's torso to straddle him. He leaned down, placing biting kissed to Arthur's neck and collarbone.

Arthur groaned at the sensations coursing through him, raking his nails down Merlin's back. Merlin arched, purring like a cat and sending vibrations through Arthur's skin.

"Clothes.... Off..." he managed to pant as Merlin's mouth set up camp at one of his nipples. He managed to tear himself away from the warm sensations rolling through him enough to push Merlin back and start attacking his belt buckle. His arousal played havoc with his co-ordination and after a moment, Merlin slapped his hands away and went to work on the belt. Arthur transferred his attention to his own jeans, popping buttons and fasteners, almost tearing them from the garment. Merlin stood, tugging off his shoes and socks and stepping out of his jeans and briefs. Arthur wriggled out of his own clothes, throwing them in a heap next to his shoes, which he toed off.

Arthur backed up to the middle of the bed, away from the edges as Merlin crawled across the bed towards him. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous, as this was his first time having sex in living memory. But as Merlin settled beside him, not on top of him, his worries melted slowly away. He smiled as Merlin reached out and gently ran the pads of his fingers down Arthur's nose and over the bow of his lips. He looked in awe of Arthur, and he kissed his fingertips gently.

"I can't believe you're here," he said in a rough tone.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Arthur answered truthfully. Merlin leaned over and kissed him, shortly, sweetly, before moving down Arthur's body. He seemed to delight in the gaps and moans that Arthur made, and Arthur was only too happy to oblige. Merlin kissed his way down his body, stopping at random points to suck or bite, marking Arthur's body with signs of possession.

He went lower, dipping a tongue into Arthur's belly button before licking across his hip bones and kissing down his thigh before going lower, completely missing the area Arthur wanted attention paid to the most. His cock was almost _painfully_ hard, stiffening to hit against his stomach, leaving drops of pre-come on the slightly hairy skin.

"Merlin..." he gasped. " Please.... I'm begging here..."

Merlin grinned a completely evil grin at him. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he replied before swallowing Arthur inch by slow inch down almost to the root. Arthur muffled his scream of pleasure with his fist as his cock was surrounded by wet, warm, wonderful heat. Merlin swallowed around his cock and pulled back, tongue running up the entire length. He tongued the slit, and the bundle of nerves just beneath the head. He licked his way back down to lick at Arthur's balls, and he whimpered again. Arthur's fists were clenched in the bed sheets at this point, almost pulling them off the bed as he desperately tried to anchor himself.

"Merlin... please... I'm gonna..."

Merlin pulled off completely, ignoring Arthur's wail of protest.

"You utter bastard..." Arthur gasped out.

"Not really," Merlin grinned a dirty grin down at him. "I just have plans for this." He indicated to Arthur's cock. Rummaging around in the bedside table, he crowed triumphantly when he finally fished out a half empty bottle of lube and scrambled to pick a few foil wrapped condoms out of his jeans pockets.

"Where did you get those?" Arthur asked breathlessly.

"Got them from the dispenser in the men's room when you went to get more beer before we started dancing," Merlin told him smugly.

"I should be insulted that you think I'm that easy, but at this moment, I _just don't care_," Arthur panted.

"Pushy bottom..." Merlin murmured fondly as he ripped the packed open with his teeth before he rolled it onto Arthur's straining cock. Arthur bit his lip to prevent him crying out or coming at the touch of his hand alone. His own hands were clenched at his sides, buried in the sheets to stop himself losing control and bringing himself off. Merlin, the damn cock-tease, was just kneeling there next to him, his eyes blown wide with arousal and want. His own cock was almost purple in colour and stood straight against his stomach. Arthur wanted to reach out and touch, but was afraid to loosen his grip.

Merlin flipped open the cap on the lube and poured a generous amount onto his fingers. To Arthur's amazement and ever increasing arousal, he then reached back behind himself and slowly inserted one finger. From the angle he was at, Arthur saw everything: the slight wince of pain at the first intrusion of his own finger, and the look of pleasure when he felt stretched enough to add the second, the way he eventually went deeper and deeper still with three fingers until his hips jerked of their own accord and Merlin moaned, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Merlin..." he croaked, beckoning his husband to him. Merlin leaned down and kissed him deeply as he settled across Arthur's thighs. He poured even more lube on Arthur's cock before positioning himself and sinking down slowly. Oh so slowly.

Arthur's brain completely ceased to function as the warm, tight heat enveloped him. Above him, Merlin gasped and groaned as he slowly sank down until Arthur was buried up to the hilt. He panted above Arthur, his face a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Are you ok?" Arthur managed to gasp out, his hands settling on Merlin's hips.

"F-F-Fine," Merlin panted. "Just been a while, is all." He shifted his hips experimentally, and Arthur's grip on them tightened. Jesus Christ. This was the greatest feeling in... ever. Merlin shifted again, pleasure overtaking pain on his features, and slowly raised himself up before sinking back down completely.

Arthur groaned and moved his hips in time to meet Merlin. His husband groaned long and a bit too loud, but right at that moment, neither man cared. Their pace picked up, Arthur's thrusts becoming more and more frantic as Merlin tightened his inner muscles convulsively. One hand remained gripping Merlin's lean hips as the other wrapped itself around Merlin's cock. He cried out, falling forward to brace his arms on Arthur's shoulders. He leaned down for a quick messy kiss before arching up again as Arthur began to stroke him in counterpoint to his thrusts.

It didn't take long, for either of them. Arthur's hips were snapping up and down in a completely erratic rhythm as his orgasm blindsided him and he came, his vision whiting out and his hands convulsing. Merlin followed moments later, Arthur still striping his cock. Merlin's come spilled out over Arthur's hand and onto his stomach, catching in the hairs there but Arthur didn't care.

For several long minutes, neither man moved. They panted their exhaustion, eyes meeting and locking. Arthur brought his clean hand up to Merlin's and intertwined their fingers. Merlin slid off Arthur's lap, wincing as Arthur slid out of his body. Arthur dealt with the condom and reluctantly stood to clean up. He brought a wet flannel back from the bathroom and gently wiped at Merlin's stomach, where some of his come had ended up. When they were both clean, he collapsed onto the bed where Merlin immediately gravitated to his side. He burrowed into Arthur's embrace, resting his head on his chest. Arthur idly traced random patterns and numbers onto the pale skin of Merlin's back when a thought occurred to him.

"Merlin?"

"Hmm?" came the sleepy reply.

"How old am I?"

Merlin hesitated for a moment. "You're thirty two," he answered eventually.

"Oh. Okay." He hesitated again, unsure whether to ask the question.

"Was it always this good between us?" he asked eventually.

Merlin propped himself up on one elbow and looked into his eyes when he replied.

"Arthur. Every time with you is like the first time."

Arthur smiled and kissed him, before settling down to sleep.

~*~

Sophia stretched languidly, enjoying the feel of the whole king size bed to herself. Arthur had been as selfish in bed as he was everywhere else, pulling and tugging at blankets and sheets, so Sophia was relishing every moment of this. She patted her belly as she rose, smiling slightly. She never thought of herself as a mother, but she found she was enjoying the prospect. She would be a good mother. Obviously she'd have a team of nannies there to do all the really disgusting parts and the parts she was too busy to do, but she had lots of money and no one to answer to.

She briefly thought of Arthur, and wondered if he had his memory back before discarding the idea. If he did have his memory back, there would be irate and loud phone calls, demanding emails and this yacht would be turned around already. She pulled on a silk bathrobe as she wandered into the sitting area. Tristan sat there reading the paper, and he smiled besottedly in her direction. She smiled back. He was fun, if a bit dumb, but easily manipulated. He would do at least until his baby was born. She figured he would be easily distracted after that.

Her mobile made loud bleeping noises where it sat charging on the table next to the bar and she answered it without looking at the caller on the pink jewel incrusted screen.

"Hello?" she purred down the phone.

"Sophia."

She froze, recognising the cold, hard tones of her father in law.

"Uther..." she said warily. Uther _never_ called her, preferring to pretend that she didn't exist. She spent her time doing the same to him and they were both happy in their blissful denial. She was sure that he vented to Arthur about her though. She knew she did about him, anyway.

"I cannot get hold of my son," he informed her. "Over the past two months, I have left several messages on his phone, and he has not returned my calls. I have sent him several emails, all of which have gone unanswered. I have called the phone on the yacht several times, only to be told that Arthur was 'indisposed' or 'just gone shopping on the mainland' or 'did not wish to speak with anyone." Sophia gulped as she recognised all the excuses she had ordered Geoffrey to give for her husband. Damn Uther and his demanding ways!

"Well, I..."

"I do not want to hear more excuses," he cut her off. "Is my son there right now?"

"No," she managed to say eventually. "He's gone for a run?"

Uther's short bark of unamused laughter scared her a little.

"A run. Of course. Tell him to call me when he gets back. I don't care if he's in one of his sulks. Tell him that if I don't hear from him by tomorrow night, I will personally be coming to whatever part of the ocean you are on at the moment to see him in person. I can have a helicopter available within twenty minutes and I will do this if I don't speak to him soon."

"I'll find him... I mean I'll tell him," Sophia gulped, suddenly feeling very queasy. Uther hung up without another words and she closed the phone with shaking hands.

She should have known it was too good to last. She needed to go back there, to that tiny town with those tiny people living their tiny lives. Damnit. She would need to go back to that awful depressing bungalow that they called a hospital and get him. And then she would have to think of a way to convince him not to tell Uther what had happened.

"Geoffrey!" she yelled suddenly, startling Tristan to his feet. She took a moment to admire his muscled frame while her butler answered her call. "Trouble, my darling," she told him. "We need to get Arthur back." He pouted, the expression ridiculous on a grown man of his size and stature and Sophia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Geoffrey appeared quietly behind her, as usual, and she jumped a mile in the air.

"You called, Madame?" he asked politely.

"Yes, we need to get to land and to an airport or airstrip of some sore. Phone Owain and tell him to meet us there with Arthur's plane. We're going back to Ealdor to convince Arthur to come back with us," she said, remembering the lie she had told him when she came back from the hospital without him. "Phone ahead and get a car to meet us at the nearest airport to Ealdor. And I want at _least_ a _Mercedes_. I don't want to be travelling around the countryside in a rust bucket."

He nodded silently and went to do as he was ordered. Sophia sat down on the couch, a hand pressed to her forehead. It was all falling apart, and so quickly. She wished she could just go back to bed and start the day again.

~*~

The grand opening of _Avalon Designs_ was a huge success, though for Merlin, Lance and Arthur, it was an incredibly busy and stressful day. Ever since they had gotten the money, things had snowballed and within the month, they were open. First thing on the agenda for the big day was getting the girls ready. Gwen and Morgana insisted on wearing make-up, and Arthur had to resort to literally hiding their blusher before they could put even more on. He even forced them to take off some of the stuff they had already put on, telling them that they would thank them when they were looking back on pictures of this day when they were older. The girls exchanged weird looks which Arthur didn't understand. But, he had resigned himself to know understanding women in general and his pre-teen daughters in particular.

Hunith, as usual, wanted to wear her princess dress. And, for once, Merlin and Arthur gave and let her wear it. In her shiny black patent leather shoes, frilly white socks and blue Cinderella dress, she looked completely adorable. She was currently in the garden, standing carefully so as not to dirty her dress, trying to turn pumpkins into coaches.

She'd be there a while then. At least she was staying clean.

Merlin was in full panic mode. He was yelling down the phone at Lance, crossing things off lists and generally coming close to pulling his hair out. Eventually, they all managed to get into the car, relatively clean and presentable and went to meet Lance. He had arrived at the shop earlier and was getting set up, putting the finishing touches on the layout of the shop and getting the tills set up. He was also setting up the food that Arthur had made and delivered the day before. When they arrived, they immediately lost Hunith in the work-shop. They sent the other two off to find her, comforted slightly by the fact that all the machines were unplugged or powered down and couldn't be turned on by someone accidentally brushing up against them.

The doors opened at noon. Arthur had worked hard on promoting the shop, designing flyers and printing them and distributing them. Gwen had helped by calling in an ad in the local paper and Morgana had helped distribute the flyers all over _Ealdor_ and _Camolin_, the town where Lance and Merlin had decided in opening their shop. It was big enough for passing trade, but not so big that it got lost in a sea of other shops. The press had come, doing a piece on new businesses in the aftermath of the recession, and Merlin and Lance ended up doing a local news segment. Arthur had watched from behind the cameraman as Merlin did him proud, managing to talk directly to the good-looking, male interviewer without stuttering and blushing bright red. After the interview, the young man, Galahad, tried to keep Merlin's attention, chatting to him, and Arthur's stomach clenched with jealousy. Arthur could tell that Merlin's heart wasn't in it and eventually he made his excuses, walking towards Arthur and beckoning him into the office for a moment.

"Glad you could pull yourself away," he said sulkily, slightly put out when Merlin laughed.

"Oh Galahad? He's harmless. Nice guy though. But, I do have a reason for dragging you in here."

"Oh really?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, a lecherous grin taking over his face. He glanced around the office. "Here and now? Ok then, but we'll need to be quick."

"God, get your mind out of the gutter, you perv," Merlin laughed. "No, I brought you in here to give you something. It's a special day and it needs to be commemorated." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a white gold wedding ring, complete with the inscription 'You are for me' on the inside. He picked up Arthur's hand, who, for once, was speechless, and slipped it into the ring finger of his left hand.

"I love you Arthur," he said sincerely, looking into Arthur's eyes. "And I want you to be with me, always."

Arthur framed his face and kissed him, happiness bubbling up inside him.

"That can be arranged," he whispered before kissing him again.

~*~

Overall, the day was a complete success. They had some great reactions from the shoppers and the people. They'd even sold some items and had orders for more in. Merlin and Lancelot were beside themselves with happiness, walking around with stupid grins on their faces. The shop had huge potential, and had opened with a bang. Gaius had come to the opening too, sincerely congratulating them both and telling them he was sorry to lose such good workers.

As they drove home, Arthur idly traced patterns on Merlin's leg, reflecting on his life and finally understanding his decision of years before to stay at home and look after his family. They were wonderful children; wonderful but a handful. And he had a husband he adored and who loved him just as much in return. He knew he'd never been that happy.

~*~

It was then, of course, that the whole thing went to hell.

~*~

When they arrived back at the house, a strange car, a limo really, was sitting in the driveway. Arthur, who was alternating between running his thumb over his new wedding ring, and sneaking glances at his husband, didn't notice it at first. When the usual chatter in the car petered out into dead silence, he looked up confused. Merlin had broken out into a cold sweat beside him, and the girls were sharing uneasy glances in the back of the car. Confused, he opened the door and got out. In a move that was almost choreographed, an older gentleman in a dapper suit got out of the limousine also and opened the back door. A well dressed, beautiful woman stepped out and Arthur brushed past her to open the door of the house.

"I'll be back in a minute Sophia," he called over his shoulder. "I just need to..." He stopped dead on the stairs, gasping for breath, almost heaving as the memories came back to him. He remembered it all... Sophia. She was his wife. They'd met at a party and had been married for almost five years. Five long, _long_ years. His father hated her, and Arthur himself was beginning to. She was really showing her true colours now.

And God, his _father_! He was a hard man to deal with but Arthur still loved him. And he loved Arthur too; he told him once when Arthur had been in a car crash and his father had rushed to his side. He'd woken up to his father asleep at his hospital bedside, worry obvious on his face even in sleep. He was still there, running his business empire and not in prison. Oh thank God. The business empire. Arthur had money. Lots and lots of money. He _knew it_. And his mother... he'd never met his mother. She'd died when he was born. He staggered at the weight of the memories and the ache in his head, and he felt more than heard Merlin rush immediately to his side.

Merlin... Merlin was that handyman who hated him and who he had thrown overboard off the _Gloriana_.

He'd lied to him. He'd made him believe...

Arthur didn't think it was possible to be in this much pain and still live.

"I remember," he croaked out past a parched throat, turning to face everybody. "The doctors said that someday something would just click with me and I'd get it back, and it did. I saw your face, and Poof! I remember." He laughed humourlessly. "I remember you Sophia," he told his wife, who, he noted, had not moved from her spot to help him when he had staggered, unlike Merlin who was at his side within seconds. She smiled benignly at him, and then shot nervous looks towards Merlin. "I remember everything. I even remember you, Merlin." He turned to his husband. No, not his husband. Someone who had used him and lied to him...

He looked over at the girls, and a fresh wave of pain swept over him. He loved them so much, but they weren't his. He had no claim on them.

"I remember the argument, and me pushing you overboard. I remember you," he repeated shrugging Merlin's comforting hand off his shoulder. "You're the sweaty carpenter, and these are your children. You made me believe that they were mine, you made me love them. You made me love y..." he cut himself off. No one spoke, just staring at him as he stared at the ground, trying to bring himself under control. Eventually, Sophia broke the silence.

"Arthur, it's ok. I'm here to take you home," she said, stepping forward gingerly, obviously not willing to go too far towards the house. Arthur felt himself bristle with injured pride. He had worked hard on the house. He made if a good home for himself and his family...

He cut his thoughts off again. This wasn't his house, this wasn't his family.

"I don't belong here," he said, straightening to his full height. "I'll just go get my things."

He turned and walked back into the house. When he got inside the door, he took a moment to look around. He saw the Twilight book Morgana was reading open spine up on the coffee table, Merlin's work table overflowing as usual, he saw the books he read with Hunith tucked down the side of one chair, and the latest bit of kitchen equipment that Gwen was taking apart scattered on the dining room table. He saw everyone's things scattered about, but he saw practically nothing of himself.

This was not his home. He took the cell phone that Merlin had given him out of his pocket and placed it on the coffee table before turning and leaving.

~*~

The sun was beating down uncomfortably hot; making is shirt stick to his back with sweat. His throat was parched and dry, and his fists were clenched so tight with worry that his nails were leaving crescent shapes in his palm, almost drawing blood. But Merlin didn't notice any of this. His mind was focussed on the look of pain and betrayal on Arthur's face when he looked at him. He always knew it would be bad when Arthur found out. He knew he should have told him, but a tiny part of him had hoped that he would never have to. That Arthur would stay with them forever. Living a lie for so long would be hard, but he couldn't lose another person he loved as completely as he did with Arthur, and as he had with Will. It would kill him. When he had slipped that ring on Arthur's finger, he had felt complete. It had been one of the scariest things he had ever done, admitting that he loved him to his face, but the way he felt when Arthur kissed him back had made all the worry disappear. And now, it was ending.

It wasn't fair.

He glared at Sophia. She didn't know what she had. She'd _left_ him there in that hospital. How low does a person have to be before they _do_ something like that. She was such a cold-hearted bitch that he found it hard to look at her. So calculating... She noticed the look of revulsion on his face when she looked at him, and backed up slightly.

"I brought Tristan," she told him warily. "Tristan!" she called and Burly Security Guard stepped out of the car, once again looking like he wanted to crush Merlin's skull between his thumb and forefinger.

"I think we can take Tristan," he heard Morgana tell her sisters, and at that moment, Merlin had no doubt but that they could.

The door to the house opened far too soon for Arthur to have packed anything. The shell-shocked man walked down the steps, far too pale beneath his tan. Merlin started forward with worry, but Arthur held up his hand.

"Nothing in that house belongs to me," he said. Merlin didn't think it was possible, but his heart broke even more when Arthur slipped off the wedding ring he had put on him not three hours before and pressed it into Merlin's palm. Pain laced Arthur's face as he stared into his eyes, and Merlin was sure his own face mirrored it. He didn't think he'd feel this guilty.

"For what it's worth, thank you," he whispered and Arthur grimaced.

"Come Arthur," Sophia trilled, breaking the moment. "Let's get you home. We have your private jet standing by at that tiny excuse for an airstrip a few miles down the road." She leaned forward and tugged at his arm, and Arthur allowed himself to be led. Merlin watched silently as Arthur got into the back of the limo, looking back at the kids and at him only once. Once was enough for Merlin to know how very angry he was at him, and was sure he could tell how much Arthur hated him.

The door had barely closed behind them all when the girls sprung into action.

"No, no, no!" they shouted, racing towards the limo. All three of them started banging on the window, begging Arthur not to go. Merlin thought he could see Arthur touch the window with his fingertips before pulling them away abruptly, but he couldn't be sure. The limo started up and headed down the drive, leaving Gwen, Morgana and Hunith in its wake.

"YOU SAID DADS DON'T LEAVE!!" Hunith screamed after the car, crying openly. But the limo drove on. When it was out of sight, they all turned and dejectedly started towards the house. Hunith ran past him and into the house, crying. Gwen followed, a look of reproach on her face. Morgana followed them, trailing a bit behind.

"We should have told him," she said, scuffing her right foot in the gravel.

"He would only have left sooner," Merlin replied, reaching out and arm and pulling her close. She endured it for a moment before pulling away and walking inside, leaving Merlin alone, clutching Arthur's still-warm wedding ring in a tight grip.

~*~

Arthur slammed shut the door of the piece of crap car he had rented without even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition. Someone would be along to return it anyhow. He resisted the urge to kick the tyres as he passed. It was ridiculous that he'd had to _pay_ to rent that rust bucket, but anything was preferable to riding in the limousine with Sophia. The argument they'd had as soon as they pulled away from the house had been pretty spectacular, culminating in her yelling that she should have left him in that psych ward. He'd known for a while that she was a cold hearted bitch, but _leaving_ him scared and alone like that? That was a whole new level of low.

The first call he'd made had been to his lawyer to start divorce proceedings. The second had been to his father to assure him that yes, he was still breathing and yes, he was divorcing Sophia. Finally. Her face had gone purple with rage as she screamed and shouted in the seat next to him, pleading with him, telling him she loved him. He reminded her of the child she carried that was most certainly _not_ his and he had never seen someone lose all colour so fast.

He strode across the tarmac to where his pilot stood waiting at the steps of the stairs to his private plane. Owain gave him his usual cheery grin and greeting as Arthur climbed the steps into the plane. He settled himself in the comfortable leather chair, and strapped himself in; ignoring Sophia's sobbing presence a few feet behind him. He stared blankly ahead, trying to clear his mind. But all he could hear was Hunith's accusatory "You said dads don't leave!" ringing in his head, and all he could see in his mind's eye was the look on his kids faces as he left.

No.

Not his kids.

Never his, no matter how much he loved them. They were Merlin's children.

Merlin, who had lied to him, made him a _househusband_ of all things, but who'd also listened to him, and valued his opinion, and who made him laugh and who kissed him with such abandon and his whole heart and soul.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed tiredly at the 'v' between his brows. He needed to stop thinking about them all, and get back to his old life.

That thought wasn't as appealing as it should have been.

Besides, telling himself he needed to stop loving his family was much easier said than done.

As he felt the plane start up, he closed his eyes again and tried to get some sleep. Merlin had kept him up until three am the night before 'celebrating' the future success of the store.

Damnit.

So much for not thinking of them. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out the set of beads that Hunith had given him after one of her insane arts and craft sessions. Worrying the beads between his fingers, he willed himself to relax as they taxied down the runway.

He needed to get his head back in the game; get back to normal. Not more kids, or dogs, or husbands to hold him back. His brain told him it was logical.

His heart disagreed.

Just as they were about to take off, he jumped out of his seat and tore open the door of the cockpit to the surprise of everyone on board. Owain jerked his hands off the controls in surprise when Arthur yelled "Don't!"

~*~

Merlin tried hard to keep up the facade of normality for the sake of his kids, but it was next to impossible. Twice now he had lost the man he loved most in the world, and this time it had been through his own stupidity and selfishness. And twice now, his kids had lost a father. Hunith wouldn't stop crying, and told Merlin she 'didn't want to look at him 'cos he let the mean lady take Daddy away'. Morgana kept giving him the death glare while attempting to comfort her sister and Gwen kept wringing her hands in a terribly heartbreaking way while looking nervously between him and Morgana.

He sank down onto the couch, his hands dangling between his knees and his head bowed. He had to help his kids deal with this before he even thought of letting himself wallow. They needed his support to get through this. God, Lance had been right. He _really_ hadn't thought this one through. Then again, he never expected Arthur to be so wonderful really, and still obnoxious, but loyal and sweet on occasion and loving and generous. He rested his head back on the couch before springing into an upright position almost immediately. The cushions smelled like Arthur. It was just too painful.

"He wouldn't have minded, you know."

Merlin jumped a foot in the air in fright, not having heard Morgana approach him.

"God, Morgana. A little warning next time, yeah?"

"Sorry," she replied blithely, completely unrepentant. "Still, I meant it. Papa wouldn't have minded."

"Minded what?" Merlin asked, stalling for time. Morgana had always been incredibly shrewd for her age, and could always read Merlin like a book. This was something he really couldn't discuss with his twelve year old daughter.

"That you love Arthur," she said as she rolled her eyes, her tone conveying just how much on an idiot she thought he was. Merlin sputtered in surprise, but Morgana held up her hand for silence.

Way too shrewd for her own good.

"We all know you loved Papa and we know how hard it was when he died. It was hard on us too, but you were there for us. I loved him so much Dad. The two of you were the best things that ever happened to me. And to Gwen, and definitely to Hunith. And we know you'll always love him. But, he wouldn't have wanted you to be alone forever."

Merlin pulled Morgana into a hug and kissed the top of her head. His daughter was something so special. So amazing. He told her so and watched the blush creep across her features.

"He would have wanted you to be happy, Dad. And Arthur makes you happy. You love him."

"It's not that simple sweetie. He hates me. He never wants to see me again. And I don't blame him."

"But he loves you too!"

"Sometimes, that's not enough honey. I appreciate this, I really do. But things don't work always work out like they do in books and in movies, no matter how much you love someone."

"You're not even trying! You just let him go!" Morgana yelled before stomping off to the back garden. Gwen followed, tugging a sniffling Hunith behind her.

Alone in the house, Merlin grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the spotless table. He looked around, marvelling at the difference in the house in those few short months. It wasn't just that the house looked less like a bomb had hit it several times over; it was the air of love and care that shone through. This was a happy home. They were all content. Arthur had been content, with the kids, with the house.

With Merlin.

Merlin sat there, not drinking his beer, for a long time. He took Arthur's ring from his pocked and placed it on the table in front of him. He reverently touched the band of white gold, and read the inscription. He missed Arthur already. He'd gotten used to his presence in the house. And in his heart.

He still loved Will, and missed him. But he didn't have to be alone forever. Will had been dead for a long time, and while he would have hated Arthur on sight if they had met, he would have appreciated the fact that he made Merlin happy.

And here Merlin was, just letting him walk out of his life.

Morgana was right. He wasn't even trying.

Standing suddenly, he abandoned his untouched drink and grabbed the keys to the people carrier. Halfway out the door, he stopped. The girls would never forgive him if he left them behind. He ran into the back garden, and made his way towards the girls' clubhouse. He banged on the door.

"Ok guys! You win. Let's go."

Their cheers buoyed his resolve as they all clambered into the van and Merlin peeled out of their driveway.

~*~

"Don't what?" Sophia shrieked behind him as they finally taxied to a stop. Arthur brushed past her, calling for Geoffrey.

"Geoffrey, I need you to open this door." Arthur tried pulling the lever to open the door of the plane but it wouldn't budge.

"Do you wish to disembark, sir?" he asked, his eyes betraying a hint of approval.

"Yes. I thought that would have been implied," Arthur smiled slightly. Geoffrey nodded and went to speak to the pilot, presumably about heading back to the tarmac.

"You're going back there, aren't you?" Sophia spat. "You're going back to those peasants."

"Peasants Sophia?"Arthur raised an eyebrow. "How very medieval of you. And I suppose in this scenario you're the lady of the Keep? Well, at least you're not typecasting."

Sophia flushed in rage and stomped her foot. Arthur marvelled at the childish gesture. How he had stood her for so long was a complete and utter mystery to him.

Geoffrey returned to the seating area. "Owain is returning us to the departure area, such as it is." He indicated to the tiny building they could see through the window. "It will be safe then to lower the stairs.

"I really like you Geoffrey. Always have," Arthur grinned, clapping a friendly hand on the older man's shoulder.

"You can't do this Geoffrey. I forbid it!" Sophia stomped her foot again.

"With all due respect Madame, consider this my notice," Geoffrey smiled benignly at her. Arthur laughed at the pure outrage on Sophia's face. It was understandable after all. Geoffrey had been with her for years. It's a wonder he stayed so long.

"You'll always have a job with me," he grinned. "You'll love the girls. Calling them feisty would be an understatement."

"They did seem... spirited, Sir."

"No! I won't let you do this!" Sophia raged. "You can't leave me for him. He's a skinny jumped up handyman without two brain cells in his head to rub together. He's a _man_ for God's sake Arthur! He..."

"Firstly, he's not skinny. He's lean. He's also a master carpenter and a fantastic furniture designer. And he has so many ideas. And I'm sorry, but I don't love you any more Sophia. I'm not sure I ever did. I loved the idea of you. And the fact that you pissed of my father."

"What's love got to do with marriage?" Sophia shouted. Her face really was turning an alarming shade of red. Arthur took her gently by the shoulders and pushed her down into one of the seats.

"Sophia, you need to calm down. What you're doing right now is not going to be good for the baby." The plane stopped once more and Geoffrey let down the door and the stairs. "Take care of her," Arthur told him before hurtling down the stairs towards rust bucket he had rented. He yanked open the door and turned the key, turning as quickly as he could in the small space.

He headed back the way he came.

Towards Ealdor.

Towards Merlin and Morgana and Gwen and Hunith.

Towards home.

~*~

Merlin drove as if his life depended on it. The girls were chattering in excitement in the seats behind him, but Merlin barely heard them. He concentrated on the road ahead of him, slipping down side streets and back lanes to get out of the town faster. Pretty soon, they were out onto the wide open roads. They drove through twisting roads surrounded by trees that were rapidly turning brown. They past mountains and hills and some altogether beautiful scenery, but Merlin saw none of it. He was concentrating on the road so much that he barely even noticed the car that was driving towards them. It was only when Morgana shouted "DAD! That's him!" that his focus snapped from the road.

He slammed on the brakes and saw the other car do the same in the rear view mirror. Then Merlin was opening the door and he was running, and so was Arthur and all of a sudden, they were in each other's arms. Merlin slammed his lips onto Arthur, desperate for his touch and his taste after he thought he had lost him.

"Oh God, Merlin..." Arthur panted between fiery kisses.

"Don't ever leave us again, you prat. You're mine Arthur. Ours and you always will be. You..."

"I won't. I swear it," Arthur promised before kissing Merlin again. As soon as they broke apart for air, they were tackled by the girls. Hunith grabbed Arthur around the waist and he swung her up into his arms. Gwen latched onto his torso and Morgana came at him from the other side. They were talking a mile a minute, gibbering excitedly and Merlin's heart melted once more at the look of love on Arthur's face as he looked at his kids.

Their kids now.

Arthur's eyes met his over their heads and his smile softened dopily. With his free hand, he tugged Merlin into the embrace, ignoring the girl's good natured protests as he pulled him in for a kiss.

Merlin closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Arthur's.

He was home.

~*~

_ **Epilogue** _

Arthur sat on the sofa in front of the fire, relishing in the warmth washing over him from the fire in front of him, and also the heat of Merlin's gaze. He sat beside him on the couch, an idiotic grin pasted onto his face. Arthur would make a smart comment about it, but he was pretty sure that his own face sported a matching smile. They were sitting an arms-length away from each other, just looking and enjoying the other person's presence.

The girls had gone to bed half an hour ago. Hunith had already been asleep when Arthur had carried her upstairs, relishing the experience of putting _his daughter_ to bed. It was half ten at night, and even the sounds of Morgana and Gwen moving about in their room had faded to nothing. The excitement of it all had exhausted them. They had been so happy to see him, and it still warmed Arthur's heart. And Merlin...

Yes, he had lied to him. But he had also made him feel more alive that he had ever felt before. He had shown him happiness, and family, and true peace. And he had shown Arthur love. Love like he had never experienced before in his life. He knew his father loved him, but he was not the most demonstrative of me at the best of times. But Merlin and his girls, they loved openly, with their whole hearts, and he loved them back just as fiercely.

When they returned to the house, (the only house Arthur had ever felt proud of in his life) they had stayed up talking for hours. Arthur told him all about his life, and had received hugs and kisses of sympathy in return for his lonely childhood and horrible marriage. He told them about his father and laughed as he realised he was looking forward to the first time he and Morgana would meet. They would either love each other on sight, or start the first of many, many fights.

When they realised that he had grown up with money and that now, by default, it would belong to them too... Well, that had been interesting. Merlin had blanched completely white and Arthur had been worried that the man was going to faint. The girls had screamed. A lot. And very loudly. Then started making their Christmas lists involving thing such as ponies, and Playstations, and dolls and cars, though none of them would be able to drive for years yet. When Morgana had started muttering to herself about hiring someone to kidnap a guy named Robert Patterson, Arthur had swiftly turned the topic to something else.

And Arthur, in turn, had learned about Will. Merlin's first husband who had been such a huge part of their lives, and whom they all clearly missed very much. He knew there was so much more to know, and he found he did want to hear it all. He knew a part of Merlin still loved him, and always would, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to be angry. It was only to be expected.

But now, hours later, the girls had gone to bed, the fire was warming them nicely and the light trace of Merlin's fingers up and down Arthur's arm was driving him _mad_. Breaking the silent mood, be reached forward and pulled Merlin into a kiss. The other man came willingly, winding one arm around Arthur's waist and the other around his neck, holding him close.

As if Arthur would try and pull away.

Merlin broke away suddenly and stood, pulling Arthur with him. He led him into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind them before cupping Arthur's face and kissing him again. They stood there for long moments in each other's arms, just exploring and tasting and relishing every touch and caress. Merlin tugged them towards the bed, and Arthur gladly followed, stretching out on top of Merlin, pressing him down into the soft mattress. Merlin arched up into him, and Arthur groaned in response. Merlin pulled back and grinned up at him, and Arthur could _feel_ the horribly sappy wave of love come over him as he look at him.

"I love you," he whispered, and Merlin's face lit up. Arthur decided there and then to tell him he loved him at least once a day, just to see that expression of pure joy.

"I love you too," Merlin whispered huskily back, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Thank you, for everything. You gave me a family. I love you so much Merlin. And I can't wait to show you some of my houses. You'll love them. So much potential room for all your wonderful designs. And the girls will go crazy about the gardens. We'll have to build them more hide-aways."

A tiny shadow flickered across Merlin's expression, and Arthur couldn't help but worry. "What is it?" he asked.

"Houses?" Merlin asked. "As in, plural?"

"Of course. Is..." Arthur hesitated. "Is that a problem?"

"No! Not at all," Merlin was quick to assure him. "It's just... you have so much. What can I possibly give you that you don't already have?"

Arthur though to the girls asleep upstairs to their smiles and laughter and tantrums and tears and everything in between. He smiled down at Merlin.

"How 'bout a little boy?" he asked.

Merlin's face literally _shone_ with happiness as he surged up and kissed him. His momentum carried him forward, pushing Arthur down onto his back on the bed. Merlin slid his knee across Arthur's thighs until he was straddling him, kissing him fiercely.

"You're not going to get one that way," Arthur panted when they broke apart, gesturing to his own flat and entirely _not female_ stomach, thank you very much. Merlin laughed down at him.

"I know," he grinned. "But it's fun to try."

Arthur pulled the other man down to meet him and kissed him again, all the while thinking that this was it.

This was home.

~*~

 

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to extend a HUGE thank you to auroraprimavera for the beta of this monster, and to auroraprimavera, 2of7, mary_russell11, vexed_wench and rane_ab for the cheerleading, and the handholding and the poking throughout this entire writing process. Also thank you to icedmaple for not giving into the urge to kill me that she undoubtedly had every time I went on, and on, and on about this fic. It wouldn't have been written without you guys. So, cheers *is being terribly English*
> 
> Also, the town of _Camolin_ that is mentioned is actually a real place. It's nothing like in the story though. It's a small town in Ireland that I always pass through when driving from the airport to visit my parents, and it makes me lol every time cos it reminds me so much of Camelot. I couldn't _not_ use it.


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